Now is now

Thankful I didn't miss it when this was now.

It’s all been too much lately. Deadlines, a slumber party tomorrow for our sweet oldest (8!!) a trip coming, school committee responsibilities, a post-placement report due to Uganda, I could go on with all the boring busyness but it doesn’t matter. We all get tired, and I’m tired. It makes me sad-smile in recognition when people go on and on about how busy they are like they’re building their altar to sacrifice. All we’re doing is saying notice me. Do you see?

I wish for simpler days with fewer responsibilities and busyness is a bully and this doesn’t feel good, or life-giving, or kind to myself. And I wonder what will break, which dream or ambition I’ll have to surrender so that I can live, so that I can be present again, so that I can see the now in its full color without the weight of the checklist bearing down on me.

Instead, my body seems to be unilaterally deciding to pace itself, even if I’m trying to burn both ends.

I slept through my alarm the last two days. Actually, I woke up briefly to turn it off, then bent to the will of my body by dropping back intoto sleep. I’ve missed my writing time for two days going, which I tell my body (in our morning meeting) that I need for my health, too. Sleep is body restoring; writing is soul-restoring.

But my soul can’t sustain my body like it works in reverse. And so I sleep and I don’t feel much guilt or regret. It’s a gift that will carry me through this day.

I just finished reading Little House in the Big Woods to my daughter last night, and have you ever read such a perfect ending to a sweet book like that one? It’s in Laura’s voice, and Pa has just finished singing “Auld Lang Syne.”

“She thought to herself, ‘This is now.’ She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the fire-light and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”

Because I will inevitably slip into the mental checklist, because I’ve never been able to resist the pull of the future on my own strength, this morning I pray. I beg for eyes to see the now. Give me pause, slow my breathing, help me see color and life and need and hope. Now is now, and I won’t remember the deadlines or what seemed so urgent, but I will regret if I miss now.

This is now:

– Daughter, nearly 8, little lady, wanting her pasta fairy tale project to be perfect (oh so like me)
– Baby still slumbering in his crib
– Son going downstairs to get dressed, still down there, probably on his 7th distraction
– Birds chirping, welcoming the sunrise
– Trees budding earlier than ever
– A warm, messy, real house to be our home base for these kids, this life
– Time to write even after waking up late for it
– Grace, grace, grace

How do you stay in your now?

Linking with Michelle.

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3 comments on “Now is now

  1. I’ve had the exact same last two mornings (that lousy snooze button). Beautiful post from that difficult place that so many of us find ourselves in.

  2. Alison says:

    Kim, my thoughts have mirrored yours lately. Thank you for saying it so eloquently. The challenge of appreciating the moment and living NOW is monumental. I keep telling myself it’s just this phase of life, that when the kids are a little older and more self-sufficient, when homeschooling is finally the norm instead of an overwhelming new adventure, when finances aren’t so tight and we can breathe with our business, when, when, when… But then I remember that “then” – the future – isn’t guaranteed. “Now” is the only guarantee we have. This breath. This thought. This chance to hug my kids and tell them Jesus, Daddy, and I love them. I just don’t know how to balance that truth with all the things that NEED to be done (not to mention all those things that WANT to be done). So when I need a priority check, I go for a little of what I like to call “Steven therapy.” A good Steven Curtis Chapman song blaring on the stereo, my kids in my arms, and a spontaneous family dance session in the living room. “Miracle of the Moment” is an especially good choice. 🙂

    • Alison, I JUST posted an instagram photo of the morning dance party currently happening in my living room. Yes — therapy.

      I struggle to find the balance, too — I have to pray that pray that prayer so many times, and that’s only when I remember.