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"When am I going to get there?", I wonder. I have always been a "futurizer." Since I was young, I have looked ahead, longed for what was to come, lived in the future. My husband, on the other hand, has reminisced, regretted and spent much of his time living in the past. Why is living in the present so difficult? Is it so uncomfortable, or painful, or boring to simply be here now? Ah, such strange behaviors we have taken on as adults. And although many children talk about what they are going to be when they grow up, or relive precious memories, most of them are well planted in the present moment. "What did you do at school today?" we ask at the dinner table. The very young child can scarcely remember the activities of the schoolday; that was many, many moments ago. "Do we have school tomorrow?" the mid-youth asks. The concept of weekends verses weekdays gets confusing, even though it has been consistent for us adults. We often dredge through, make note of hump day, and rejoice with "Thank God it's Friday!" But as children grow, the past or future become something to long for as the heaviness of responsibility and duty, right and wrong, and other cultural influences set in. Do they have to set in? Does growing up have to mean longing for not being in the moment? The moment... the simple, evasive slice of time (which doesn't actually exist). We can grasp it, make it last, or make it disappear. Although it is evasive, it is truly all that exists in time... the one and only moment; the now. So, as I look to the future with high hopes or worry, or while my husband dwells on the past, we are always welcomed to the moment by our children. A present that is everlasting and precious indeed.
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