Here and Now

This afternoon I was at Zeeman (a store that sells inexpensive but good quality clothing), where I was looking for an extra summer top. Perfect for this hot weather, of course. But then I saw something there that I found too bizarre for words... They were already selling fall clothes in the baby section! Thick socks with mushrooms, pumpkins, and all those other cozy fall motifs on them. I found that super weird to see! It’s May, it’s been scorching hot for a whole week, and officially it’s still even spring. Summer is still three weeks away, and yet they’re already selling fall items at Zeeman. And as strange as I found it, I really should know better and be used to it by now. At Action (a discount store), they sell “Back to School” supplies in July, Christmas decorations in September, and Easter decorations in February. To me, that says two things: first, that society revolves around money and people’s emotions are exploited without shame, but more importantly, that we all seem to prefer living in the future. Months in advance, we’re already preoccupied with what’s coming “later,” without truly being in the here and now.

Last night, in an attempt to cool off, I went for a walk along the riverbank. I wasn’t the only one with that (sincerely) brilliant idea, because there were really a lot of people there taking a breather.
Some with their partners and an ice cream, but most with friends, a few pizzas, and a few bottles of hard liquor. I noticed how those 16-year-old kids were trying with all their might to act grown-up. Talking tough and cool, dressing provocatively, and everything else that goes with that age. It made me smile, because no matter how many bottles of Bacardi they passed around or how much tough talk they spouted, the insecurity they felt deep down couldn’t be hidden.

When I think about those young people last night, and the fall baby socks this afternoon, I find myself wanting to complain. ‘Why can’t people just live in the here and now? Why not enjoy the process that is life? Why not enjoy today?’ But honesty compels me to say that I am exactly the same. Back then, but also today. I can justify the fact that as a teenager I was no different from those teens from yesterday. Adolescence is not an easy time. Hormones are racing through your body, and in the social hierarchy it’s eat or be eaten. Well, then you do your best to stand at the top of that so-called pyramid, even if it’s at the expense of your own values and standards (which you don’t really know yourself at that moment; your whole body and mind are just one big mess). Those young people from yesterday—I really understand them.

But why I still dare to live in the future today—many years after my adolescence—is, on the other hand, a mystery to me. For instance, I find winter quite a cozy time of year, and that’s why I like to get a head start on it. So last year, in the middle of summer vacation (!), I started embroidering a polar bear so it would be finished by winter and I could hang it in my living room. In the same way, I had already put up my Christmas decorations by mid-November, but I was so sick of them after a month that I had put them away again even before Christmas Day! At the same time, I actually really love spring and summer, and sitting outside. And that’s why I was already sitting in the (super comfortable!) armchair on my balcony in January, while it was 5°C (41°F) outside and I was wondering why on earth I was sitting out there with my hands and toes frozen. I think the answer is because I want more than my fair share. When it’s summer, I want winter, and in winter I want summer. Why not accept that today is what it is, and then consciously enjoy it?

During the past two school years, I went to folk dancing on Wednesday evenings. I really enjoyed it, but it was also emotionally draining. Two hours of music and social interaction—that was more than enough for me to be a worn-out and overstimulated wreck for at least 24 hours afterward. This school year, I’m not going to dance anymore because I’m now picking up my sister’s kids from school every Thursday (and no longer on Tuesdays). If I go dancing on Wednesday, I’m definitely not the calm and kind aunt I want to be for them on Thursday. I did try a few times, in September and October, but I really couldn’t manage it. I talked it over with the instructor, and she immediately said, “Enjoy the kids while they’re still little. They’ll grow up much faster than you think. The folk dance class isn’t going anywhere. When they’re older, you can always come back to dance.” That comment really opened my eyes. It’s true: the kids are only this age once, and if I don’t make a conscious effort to cherish this time here and now, it’ll be over before I know it. And that time—it’ll never come back. They’ll never be 6 and 7 again, learning to read, write, and do math, and they’ll never have the imagination and sense of humor they have now. Since then, I’ve been much more mindful of our time together, and I try to truly enjoy every moment. A bit like when you’re eating a really delicious meal: you savor every bite, without already thinking about dessert or tomorrow’s breakfast. You just want to enjoy what’s still on your plate, because you know it will be over soon.

Maybe that’s the question I can ask myself here: when did I start “gobbling up” life so quickly without really being aware of the present moment, instead of enjoying every bite I take? Because it all really does pass by faster than I sometimes think. Years ago, I heard a beautiful parable in a podcast. It was about an old, dying man who had lived a happy life, and young people who asked him if he would share his secret with them. His answer to them was: “When I sit, I sit. When I stand, I stand. And when I lie down, I lie down.” The young people looked at each other in confusion and said they didn’t understand. “Isn’t this what we do too?” they asked. “No,” said the old man. “When you sit, you’re already thinking about standing. When you stand, you’re already thinking about lying down. And when you lie down, you’re already thinking about sitting.”

I want to grow into this myself, to be more mindful of the present moment, just like that old man. So that when it’s summer, I can truly enjoy it without already looking forward to the candles, Christmas lights, and electric blankets of winter. And so that when it’s winter, I can enjoy my warm couch indoors without wanting to go sit outside and freeze, pretending it’s already spring. To simply accept what is, with all its beautiful and not-so-beautiful moments, without living too much in the future. Because if I don’t, my life will be over in the blink of an eye, without me having really noticed it.