Right now, it’s easy to get sucked into the nightly rhythm of managing our stuff: purging, selling, organizing, packing. Boxes are stacked high in every corner. Supper is whatever’s left in the freezer, served up on an old Halloween paper plate and Elmo napkin from the emptied-out storage room. We’re in the mess of transition, and it’s natural for me to gaze at the next thing.
I’ve spent much of my life focused on the next thing. And the next. And the next.
In fact, I’ve always been kind of awful at living in the present of the present. My idea of relaxing usually involves a pen, a planner and a to-do list.
“B e s t i l l . . . ” He whispers.
When we rush through the present, we miss the gifts. When our hands are gripping lists so tightly, the really good stuff falls through our fingers. That’s not how I want to live out today, or the next three weeks, or the next three decades.
I want to awaken to the precious moment that is today.
I remember on my wedding day, someone told me it goes by too quickly, so take mental snapshots throughout the day. While there were plenty of photographs, the memories I snapped in my mind were some of the best: when his bright blue eyes met my diamond white dress, the overwhelming amount of people and love surrounding us in the church and the reception hall, stepping back and watching our family and friends rip it up on the drink-covered dance floor. These moments might have swept on by, but a wise person told me to capture it, to soak in the present.
And that’s exactly how I hope to live out the next and final moments in our first home — taking it a little slower, soaking up all the memories and embracing the ones we’ve yet to make.
Believe in today. Your life is now.