Eckhart Tolle’s, The Power of Now has been sitting on my night stand for about a year now. I dust it off semi-regularly, noticing its presence, aware that the stack of books on top of it just keeps getting taller and taller. I’ve read chunks of it and like it. His words can be heady, but his message is so important, so close to my heart, so where I am NOW in my life.
Known as the girl who can’t sit still, I have had a deep desire growing inside of me, for some time, to learn how to be in the present moment. The queen of multi-tasking, the planner, the gal in her head, the woman on the move – I was wired to be in motion. The daughter of a mover and a shaker mother, I came by it honestly. I learned recently from author Bruce Lipton, “that genes do not control biology” and that they are simply “a blue-print.” So I can’t blame my busyness on my mother. Damn. It’s up to me to let God work through me, to learn how to be in the NOW.
Author, Cheryl Richardson suggests asking yourself, Where are my feet right now? This act gets us focused on the present. At one point she put little heart stickers around her house to remind her to be present. She would see a little pink heart and think…Where are my feet? Grounding her to the present.
Typically when I am stressed out I am unaware of where my feet are and my head is back in the past or forward in an unknown future. I am going to try this and see where it takes me. My desire is to be in the NOW and nothing makes it more difficult to be centered in the present and simultaneously nothing makes it easier to be aware of the present, then being a parent.
This morning when my daughter was not liking her choice of rain jackets and the time for us to head out the door was past, I was right there. Present. My feet were dressed in rain boots, standing right in front of her, while I was doing my very best to breathe out calmness, choose loving words, be present to her frustration. Other days with the same scenario I couldn’t tell you where my feet were. More than likely behind my daughter, pointing toward the front door while the rest of me was screaming, We are late, let’s go, pick any coat, buck up sister.
We got to school on time, our feet walking together out the door. Breathing together not yelling or crying. I love you mama, she said, as she turned to point her feet in my direction. Then I watched as her feet carried her forward to another day of second grade. Right then my feet were still dressed in rain boots, right foot on the brake pedal, left foot resting, ready, present.