The Joy of Hyperpresence

This morning I'm flooded with an overwhelming sense of calm and place. It's a feeling of "I am RIGHT HERE. I'm in THIS MOMENT." There's nothing ahead to be anxious about, and the past isn't something regrettable. It's just lessons to be assimilated. It's a kind of hyper reality and sense of deep satisfaction. I don't have the biggest place, the fanciest car, the most expensive stuff, and I'm not famous or rich. But I'm right here, right now, and I'm fantastically content feeling me feet firmly and serenely planted in the moment. It's a term I call "hyperpresence."

Thought In the Time of COVID

I'm sitting quietly in my dining room reflecting on the events of the day. At 1.45pm, CST, I joined 75,495,716 people in the United States who've been vaccinated at least once for COVID-19. At the moment the significance didn't hit me. 

Sitting in my automobile afterward, I can admit to the tears that started flowing. I thought of so much. I thought of my mother who passed away almost five years ago now. In that moment I missed her more than ever. I wanted to share my moment with her so badly and knew I couldn't. I wondered how she would've handled the pandemic and its effects on family and society. Being the fiery, strong Irish woman that she was, I know the answer. She would've reached deep down inside herself and found the strength and wisdom to do the the things she knew were the right things to do. She would've pulled family and friends as close as possible, and as always in her own loving, selfless way, looked out for them before she looked out for herself. 

I thought of all the people who didn't make it to this moment. Those people who died hooked up to ventilators without family there to comfort them. Their families who suffered the heart-wrenching tragedy of loved ones dying and not being able to be there. 

I thought of all those yet to be vaccinated. Patiently waiting their turn, wearing their masks, keeping their distance. Day in and day out counting the moments until they get their chance to get the protection we all deserve. 

As I sat crying in joy and sadness for the things I've mentioned above, I thought back to my childhood. Steamy, humid summer midwest evenings filled with the sound of crickets and the amber glow of fireflies so thick in the air you could practically read by their light. Sitting in cool, metal Adirondack chairs in the dewy humid backyard grass of summer eating ice cold watermelon. Watermelon so cold it made your teeth hurt. But you could feel its chill spreading through your body as you swallowed each piece. Having contests to see who could spit the slimy seeds the furthest. 

These were the things I suddenly missed. The innocence of youth where the horrors of viruses that irrevocably damage and change lives was a million miles away and not even on the radar of a ten-year old boy. I grew up in the "between disease" times of the late 60s and 70s. Polio was a horror I only heard the adults talk about, not fully understanding their recollectant terror and the nighmare of AIDS. Horrific diseases that changed the course of humanity whether we admit it, recognize it or not. 

All of this flooded me within milliseconds, really. It all flashed in my head with a clarity and embrace that seemed almost impossible. How could I grasp such a large emotion and concept in such a small span of time? How could I project its sigfnificance into a future that hasn't happened yet? I don't know. I just know that I could and did. 

It's for all those reasons and many more that I have the duty to double down on my mask wearing. Why I have the responsibility to keep on social distancing. Why I need to keep washing my hands and staying vigilent. We're almost there. There's a light at the end of the tunnel and for once it's not a train.  

COVID's Rewards

I was just out walking the dog. As spring is beginning to take hold after a particularly rough end to winter I got to thinking about COVID. I have had my moments of COVID fatigue, to be sure. And while I go get a bit weary in waiting for my turn to be vaccinated, overall I'm glad for the experience. Over the past year I've become much more self-aware and my sense of being grounded in who and what I am has become more solidified.

There are those anxious for this all to be over so we can "get back to normal." That life and its daily dynamic is never returning. I feel sorrow for those groping and gasping for that "before" life. They don't see the gifts and opportunities of the past year. They've squandered the rarest of opportunities. The chance to read, to learn a new skill, to take up a new hobby, or to simply spend quality time with one's self.

While I didn't learn to play an instrument, learn to knit, or work jigsaw puzzles, I found greater parts of myself that were waiting for me to come find them. I not only found them, I embraced them. And that is a greater reward than any knit cap or 500-piece puzzle of the Eiffel Tower.

Beer Cap Fortunes

Last night I cracked open a beer and this was on the inside of the bottle cap. I've never even paid attention to a beer bottle cap before! It’s so funny for that to pop up right now. I've found myself being at another fork in life’s road so this seemingly innocent little beer cap fortune had a far greater significance for me. It seems The Universe is always finding clever ways to get the message through. Some people would say this is like a Rorschach test or horoscope, reading into it what you want, making the message fit the situation. The difference for me is that I'm finding the more mindful and self-aware I'm becoming the more these kinds of cosmic communications seem to happen. A friend says this is tapping into the power of unconscious. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps tapping into the power of that unconscious is tapping into The Universe as well?

The Optical Delusion of Being a Human

"A human being is part of the whole, called by us “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest - a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."

– Albert Einstein in replying to a stranger who asked for consolation on the death of his son.