Here and Now

Each month our congregation has a theme. March's theme is "Here and Now". I knew what the theme was prior to the month because Darcy and the youth group will be running Sunday Service at the end of the month. Darcy's job will be to give the sermon, what we call the message, and it will be something using that theme. I didn't pay much mind to the theme before service this past Sunday, but on the way to church I was composing a letter in my head and it dealt with the past. Would I ever have the courage to let go of this topic, resolve my issues with it, and move on? So many days I feel it weighting me down, leaving me floundering in deep water, treading desperately to keep my head above to breathe.

I sat at church, alone as I do, surrounded by people I've met through various activities and through my volunteering, and some whom I do not know. We went through our normal routine; welcome, sing, greet our neighbor, music. There was a skit. A story about a boy who wished he was older, who feel asleep on a bench, dreaming that he could be a teenager with a phone and the permission to stay up late at night. He ends up with a magic ball that moved him forward in life each time he pulled on the ribbon. He became a teenager, but that came with more homework, college applications to fill out, and so he wished to be an adult. He became an adult, but that came with a wife, kids, bills, and yard work, and he wished to be retired so he could go fishing. He became an old man, one who had lost his wife, his kids were grown, and he had never taken the time to fish. Of course, it was all a dream and the kid ran off to be a kid. The skit left me weepy.

I wanted to be a teenager in the worst way when I was a kid, and then as a teenager I wanted to be in my twenties, an "adult" on my own without the hassle of parents yipping and yapping at me. I had big plans. Of course, that wasn't all it was cracked up to be either, and so on and so on. Now I'm in the next phase of life, the one where we discuss our ailments, deal with our parents' failed health, and realize our kids will soon be too busy to make it home for the holidays. Now, like the kid, I wish I had taken the time to smell the sweaty sneakers. If only, I had fallen asleep on a bench and had that insightful dream.

The message, after the skit, was about taking the time to "look", to see what is around you now, and to not be afraid of the future. I sometimes think our reverend sees inside of my head during the week and talks to me directly on Sundays. I do need to see now instead of worrying about yesterday and wondering about tomorrow. I need to live in the moment, enjoy what is happening right here today.

I left there determined to try, feeling good about moving forward. Half an hour later I went to get something to eat, and was immediately annoyed that my usual "bowl" was no longer offered. I felt myself getting really bummed, that why-is-this-always-my-luck feeling coming over me even while the girl at the window tried to sell me on the "new bowls". Then I remembered that I had just promised myself to "look" so I ordered and ate one of the new items that included rice, chicken, black eyed peas, succotash, and sweet potatoes. It was delicious.

Yesterday, I took the time to look around at my surroundings. Florida is moving into spring. The orange trees are dropping the last of their fruit and sprouting the blossoms that will eventually turn into fruit in the fall. My oak tree is shedding pollen, coating our cars, the porch, and our driveway with a green haze and making our noises stuffy. So, I inhale despite needing to blow my nose immediately after, because soon the leaves will protecting my house and my front yard, giving us the shade we will desperately seek in the summer heat. It isn't earth shattering, my now, but I'm certainly going to give it a try.

Today, I'm going to the beach. I'm going to walk along the water and breathe the salty air, watch for life in the gulf. I'm going to talk to the snow birds that will flock there, moving closer to my chair, hemming me in. I'll try not to curse the ones who feed the birds, instead I'll watch the creatures swooping and grabbing. I'll think about moving forward with my goal of learning to play the guitar. I'll look forward to next week where both my girls will be home from school.

Here and Now. It's not a bad way to live for the month of March.