Be here now.
— Ram Dass
My twelve-year-old daughter teaches me more than I teach her. One of the best lessons she demonstrates is how to use time. She has a thousand activities: art, dance, tennis, swimming, reading, crafts. She jumps from one to another with enthusiasm.
She never wants to go to bed, fearing she might miss another opportunity to explore, learn, and have fun. Yet, when she does go to bed, she falls asleep almost immediately. Then it’s up in the morning and more excitement. She’s filled with a zest for living, an alive curiosity, a joy for life.
My daughter’s philosophy of time is similar to one that I saw printed on a bumper sticker outside a Weight Watchers® meeting: “Life is short. Eat dessert first!” She relates almost exclusively to the immediate present, to right now. I suspect she considers the world her toy box, and she is not about to leave any toy unexplored.
Some people would criticize the approach my wife and I have taken in raising this child. Beyond a basic set of values, we have attempted to instill the idea that life is filled with unlimited potential. We have repeatedly encouraged our daughter to tap that potential not in the past, not in the future, but in the now!
Most of us who are adults tend to accept the idea that time cannot be spent solely in the moment. We emphasize past lessons and project them into the future. We often take on the attitude of “That’s the way things have been done in the past. That’s how we’ll do them in the future.”
It’s difficult to challenge our long-standing past-present-future mental tapes. We tend to believe the past will continue to repeat itself in this moment and in future moments no matter what, without the possibility of change. I notice that my daughter very seldom constrains herself by thoughts of the past.
The future can rob us of present-moment possibilities. We can become so obsessed with the future that we pollute the now.
It’s the old “what if — a future-driven endless string of questions that lead to misery. How often we catch ourselves thinking:
“What if this doesn’t work as planned?”
“What if somebody finds out I’m inadequate?”
“What if…?”
You know the drill. More about this in a later chapter.
By the time we consider every contingency, there’s no time left for the special magic of life available in this moment. I notice that my daughter doesn’t seem to have many “what if” problems.
Dragging the past into the present, or living a life based on undefined future “maybes,” is a certain ticket to despair. The Law of Present-Moment Living is the only way out.
I spoke about present-moment living to a packed hall in San Diego recently. A woman came up afterward, struggling with a cane, carrying a portable pump through which chemotherapeutic chemicals were being continuously infused into her body. I spotted her as she stood in the long line. She finally made her way to the front. “I have chosen to die,” she said. “I don’t want to live for the moment, any moment.”
Sensing that her words might be only partially true — after all, she was attending my talk — I responded, “You still need to live in this moment. If you don’t, you’ll pollute every minute between now and your death. You might as well enjoy every remaining moment.” She left smiling, shaking her head and probably wondering about my optimism.
Yet I could not have given better advice. I’ve seen dozens of people who, once they have resolved the issue of accepting death and have “given in to the inevitable,” release themselves to live life fully. Once we begin to appreciate the present moment, we start to realize what a wonderful place life is, no matter what the circumstances.
The essence of the Law of Present-Moment Living is this: if you’re taking part in activities and entertaining thoughts that do not support life, that make you wallow in misery and indulge in negative thinking, then, no matter what you may claim to the contrary, you are polluting the moment.
If you are immersed in life-enhancing activities and enjoying them with positive enthusiasm, then you are living in the moment. This is a dimension of wellness we are never going to know unless and until we cultivate a consciousness of living in the now.
Once I was in Fargo, North Dakota, in the middle of March, doing a seminar. Some will question my judgment in agreeing to do a seminar in Fargo in March. In any case, the morning of the event, I awoke early to do my exercises. The hotel room I was provided with overlooked a large, beautiful atrium complete with lush green plants and a swimming pool. My room had no window to the outside, which meant I hadn’t a clue about the day’s weather.
I donned my running clothes, pulled out an old stocking cap, and made my way to the exit. I was greeted with wind-whipped snow and temperatures of minus twelve degrees!
Yet I want the record to show I am no fair-weather exerciser. I bravely went out — about ten yards. Back in I came! That day, I did my exercises in the warmth of the enclosed swimming pool!
Perhaps it was all perfectly planned. For there poolside at 6:30 A.M. was a person I would come to know as Miss Ida. She was from Bismarck and had made the trip in the middle of winter just to be part of the seminar.
She was a little person, charming, nattily dressed in a colorful warm-up. Her gracious personality, her speech with just a hint of an accent, marked her as one of those old-fashioned gentlewomen of years gone by. I spotted her near the Jacuzzi doing her morning stretches. She recognized me and was poolside as I got out.
“Excuse me for bothering you,” she apologized as she introduced herself. “My name’s Miss Ida.” She said that’s what everyone had called her since she was married at fifteen. Miss Ida was direct and came quickly to the point, which indicated to me she had sharp mental capacity. She was businesslike.
Her husband had died nearly two years before. She had developed cancer of the colon just six months later. The deterioration of her health was now overwhelming. She missed her husband, which added to her misery.
“We had such a wonderful life together,” she recalled. “It was all so pleasant. Then one night, my sweetheart went home to be with God. It was so sudden.
“I have had to reorganize my entire life. But I can’t seem to get it done. I just think of him. We always lived well, and it was a shock to discover I had so little money to live on. My husband never discussed business with me. And I don’t think I would have grasped it if he had. I found we had debts to pay off. And when it was all settled, I realized I needed to work.
“But, Mr. Anderson, I can’t do just anything. I’ve never had training. I was a housewife and mother. I have no ability and talent. And now I have cancer. I just wish my dear sweetheart would come back. Then everything would be okay again.”
It was pretty plain to see that Miss Ida was letting her mind trick her. She was living in the past. I sat down and we talked.
“Commit yourself to life,” I encouraged her. “Now, I don’t mean commit yourself to living a certain number of years. I mean commit yourself to living each day, fully, productively, joyfully. Commit yourself to wellness, even with cancer — not as a distant dream, but as a here-and-now reality.”
I told Miss Ida about not putting off living her life until she was “cured” of cancer. I told Miss Ida not to delay living fully because she was alone, without her husband. I told her not to put her life on hold because she did not have all the money she wanted.
I told her, “Come away today with a commitment to start doing the things you’ve always wanted to do. Start enjoying each moment by finding something enjoyable in it now!”
We all carry a tendency to put life on hold pending the resolution of some problem. We say, “When my life is better, I’ll be able to start focusing on positive things.” This is a big mistake.
Start now!
The Law of Present-Moment Living is the antithesis of procrastination. We can put off unpleasant activities, but in doing so we also put off the enjoyable ones. We ration our pleasure and contentment as if the supply were limited.
Yet the truth — and it is a great truth — is this: the supply of misery, pain, and suffering is unlimited, but so is the supply of pleasure, contentment, and fulfillment. It is we who do the rationing.
Ration no more! Capture wellness this instant! This instant is all there is. Live it!
It’s the great non-negotiable Law of Present-Moment Living.