Being In The Moment

Standing in my living room, I am completely confounded. I forgot the reason I came into this room.  I’m certain it isn’t to watch the dog hair dance with the dust in the sunbeam coming in from the window, but that is what I am doing in this moment, fascinated.
I am three voices all at once.  The voice that chastises the condition of my housekeeping (look at all the dog hair!).  Another that is urging me to remember what I came for (time doesn’t scale, get a move on!).  A third voice that marvels at how things like dog hair and dust can stay afloat…wondering if there is an air current in the room that holds them aloft…as curious as a three-year-old.

Voice three wins, I pull out my phone to “google” how dust can travel upwards against gravity.  Surprise; my inkling was correct, it’s a warm air current from the floor vent.  And then I remember what I came for, and my day continues.  Except that because voice three won out, I am a little happier and satisfied.  I have a smile on my lips.

Voice three doesn’t always win out, usually it is the loudest voice that gets my attention, cutting through the fugue of competing demands on my time.  However, I recognize that constantly yelling at myself (even mental yelling) is not a great way to live.  Sometimes you just have to rebel…against yourself.  Sometimes you have to take the moment.  Even when that moment is not “Instagram-able”, it still has immense value.

This brief moment of wonder gives me a feeling of well-being.  Later today, it will give me something to talk about at dinner with my family (other than work).  I am especially exciting to share it with my son, who is also curious and learning about air currents in science.  Later this week it will motivate me to dust and to brush the dog (probably not in that order).  Most of all, it breaks the rigidity of a demanding day with a moment of inquisitiveness.

Switching pace and focus, even just for a few moments, has so many benefits.  Clearly my body was signaling to me that I needed a break, short-term memory loss (like forgetting why you walked into a room) is often a sign we need to give ourselves a moment to let our brains catch up to where we are.  We are not living to work; we are working so we can truly live.  Being deeply curious about the world around us is a part of that living.

I am grateful for my ability to stop and enjoy this simple moment.  What simple moments are you experiencing today?