When I finish this blog post, I'll...

I've struggled much throughout my life with living in the present moment...often because what was happening was unpleasant. I learned from an early age to tell myself stories, to live in my mind and dream big dreams of the future, of a coming hero who would right all the wrongs in my world. I also learned to rewrite the past -- to say in my mind all the cutting, witty words I should have said to defend myself (read: win) in a conflict, to psychoanalyze those who hurt me and make myself right, to be stronger, sassier, less afraid.

I became really competent -- at pretty much everything. And I did a lot! Then came cancer, a true shock for I had lived the lifestyle that all the research says should protect you. At first I just saw it as another injustice, another unfair hand dealt to me...My friends and I began to talk about how we would travel the journey of healing from this disease together, and I decided to take a sabbatical.

The super-competent (I've been called Superwoman in the past, and I don't take it as a compliment anymore) me would have tried to work through it all and keep the same old routine. But I decided that I needed to concentrate wholly on healing -- and that would take time and focus. So, I've been on a sabbatical since my first surgery, January 31.

And when I stopped long enough to pay attention to my life, I realized that there were many days I left my home before 7 a.m. and didn't return until 10 p.m. I realized that I didn't live at my home, just stopped in to bathe, eat (but not savor) an occasional meal, and sleep. I've realized that I have a compulsion to be DOING at all times -- and during my first round of chemotherapy, finally learned to allow myself to sit and stare out the window (because that's all I could muster). And the world didn't stop. In fact, I enjoyed it. I finally started living each moment for myself -- and I don't mean that in a selfish way, but in the way that says, "hey, maybe right now I'm not changing the world or doing something that will impress everyone, but that tree on my back porch is lovely, and I'm going to sit and watch it sway in the breeze...and that will be enough, in fact, that will be beautiful." Sometimes it seems trite to say, but I feel like cancer has been a great teacher for me.

Eknath Easwaran says it better than I can: "Most of us live very little in the present. If we could watch our thoughts, we would be surprised to see how much time we spend in the past or future -- or simply daydreaming, out of time altogether. Very seldom can we say we are fully present in the present moment. Yet now is the only time there is. The present is all we have. If we feel we don't have enough time, the first thing to do is not throw it away. Instead of ceding it to the past and future, we can take steps to give our undivided interest to here and now. Attention flowing to the past is not energy used; it is energy wasted. The same is true of the future: looking forward to things, worrying about what might happen, fantasizing about dreams coming true is energy drained away. When the mind stays in the present, all this vitality comes back to us."

"If we feel we don't have enough time, the first thing to do is not throw it away"...those are no longer just words for me, they have a visceral reality that they never had before. And I am grateful to be sharing my precious, precious time with Gina and the rest of this kula.