I was sick yesterday with the flu and was horrified when my Wi-Fi quit working because of the rain.  I was passing the time watching Netflix trying to zone out and not think about how lousy I felt.  I could have put in one of hundreds of DVD’s I own but I’ve been trying to practice mindfulness and thought that maybe this was a good opportunity to be connected to want is.  If I can’t even be there for myself and sit still when I’m sick or in pain, how can I be there for someone else who is sick and in pain.  I decided to just be for a little while.  I practiced some meditation and just drifted in and out of sleep.  When I was awake, I was at peace.

In early sobriety, I was hyper-agitated, anxiety ridden and everything in my life was a drama.  I was constantly worried about where my life was going to take me and how I was going to survive on my own.  I was told to stay in the moment.

I was driving down the freeway one afternoon on my way to school.  I was worried about an upcoming exam, I was worried about my kids, and I was worried about when my student grants were going to arrive.  I was so full of anxiety that I just couldn’t stand it anymore and finally remembered what I was told in a meeting, “Stay in the moment.”

“What does that even mean,” I thought to myself?  “I’m in the moment.  What are they trying to tell me?”  I’m racking my brain trying to ponder the meaning of this pat answer that I was given for my anxiety.  Finally it occurred to me that I was driving and maybe I should focus on my driving.  Then I realized that if I were focused on my driving or whatever else I was doing throughout the day that I probably wouldn’t have anxiety.

We live most of our lives zoning out.  We drive to work automatically and don’t even think about where we are or what we are doing.  We do our jobs on autopilot too.  When we come home we zone out in front of the TV or computer.  I’m not drunk anymore, but sometimes I still live my life checked out.  When I live my life on autopilot, my mind runs away with me and the anxiety creeps in.

I want to be present today.  I was at the state fair with my grandsons over the weekend and was there to see the amazement and amusement on my grandson’s face when he noticed the difference between a bull and a cow.  It had to be one of the top 100 moments of my life.  I was at the birth of another grandson.  I have four grandkids that I’ve been camping with and watched their personalities as they dealt with the outdoors and bugs and vaulted toilets.  It’s hilarious.   I don’t want to miss that stuff anymore.  In order not to miss it I have to be fully engaged and paying attention.  In order to be present for that sometimes it requires that we are present for the pain as well, my own and the pain of those I love.  I’ve watched teenagers struggle with finding their way and self- destructive tendencies.  I’ve watched a child struggle with being chronically ill.  I am watching now my second generation of children with their own emotional struggles.  I’ve watch friends die from alcoholism.  I’ve listened to countless stories of alcoholic women and the abuses they’ve suffered.  Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to check out for the pain, but life doesn’t work that way.  If I check out, I don’t notice the little things that make up the great moments of my life.

Just for today I’ll stay present.