Usually, on December 31st of every year, I open my journal at approx. 11 PM and write that I cannot believe the year is over.
In my recent readings on meditative mindfulness, I came to an astounding moment of self-realization in that maybe the reason that the year “flies by”, and why every year I sit and write in shock at having arrived at the end of the year “already”, is because I am never here.
I am never here.
I think I may have spent my whole life projecting onto my future in angst- feeling afraid and so uncertain of my life ahead.
So then, I ask myself, where is here?
Sometimes, in an abstract way, I truly don’t know what it means to be here. To wake up to the moment is like slowing down time. My youth is here. I don’t know if I’m living it. I constantly forget to be in this moment, in this time. I don’t enjoy this enough. I keep waiting and wanting and desiring- something else. I lose all my todays, and all my yesterdays this way. And then comes one December 31st after another.
I’ve been changing up my work routines these days, wakng up earlier and earlier to readjust my hours. This morning, at around 6:50 AM, I was in my car lining up to get through the tunnel when I was struck by the sight of a line of fog across the skyline. It was very low, like something you could jump over. And it was lovely. The sun was coming up to my left. It was going to be another beautiful day. And in one moment of distracted driving, I rolled down my driver’s window, pulled out my camera, and snapped a photo of the rising sun.
I wanted to capture it- because on this Wednesday morning, I was Here.