This weekend was one stuffed with little big things.
I went swimming two days in a row, did hula hoops for non-stop five minutes, went brisk walking along Bukit Timah Road, Newton, met with Stacey (my friend since elementary), dyed my aunt’s hair velvet brown, read a large pile of old magazine and walked for a total of eight hours while window-shopping.
Oh, I am so restless. Can we have three rest days instead of two? This is me wishful thinking and then this is me sharing a lot of someday’s floating around in my head…
There is the house I will live in, the perfect weight I will be at, the marathon I will complete, the garden I will tend, the business I will make. The world will be safe. Someday.
And though I remind myself, often, that someday never comes, that there is only just today, this day, the one I am in, those someday’s always come creeping back in. I suppose it’s human nature, to dream, to look to the future, to wonder what it might hold. But then I wonder how much of my life I am missing or wasting by spending time on someday when I could be, should be, spending it in this day, in this hour, in this moment.
I go back and forth between the two, trying to find the balance. Living in the moment is so much more difficult than it sounds. My body can do it, my physical self has no choice but to be where it is when it is there. But my mind, it wanders. And yes, I can rein it in, pull it back, sit it down in this chair and say, listen.
But is that always the best thing to do? Aren’t those dreams just as important as the smell of the flowers in the vase before me? Aren’t the possibilities as valuable as the present? Most days, I can’t decide. I try to do both, appreciate where I am, while also contemplating where I might end up.
In a perfect zen moment I am only here, in the now, in the sun I sit in, away from my family and comfort zone. When I have those moments, I revel in them, breathe them in, embrace their importance. But my mind has its own set of wings and often takes flight before I can stop it. And when it soars high above me looking towards some other time and place, I have to wonder if it’s fair to keep it tethered to my ankle.
I don’t have the answer to which way is best. I know it’s important to enjoy what I have when I have it, where I am. I know this. I see beauty in the tiniest of places, in the green trees that greet me as I walk to the MRT station every morning, in the steaming cup of milk tea that starts my day, in the long line waiting for a bus to the office, in the e-mails I read, reports I need to generate and meetings and presentations I need to prepare for. I recognize the value of immersing myself in these things.
But then my mind will hear the echo of a promise and take off in search of the source.
Sometimes, I just sit back and let it wander.
My body can hold its place ’til it returns.