Living in the Moment

Over the past thirty years or so of my life, I have been a person that has either been trying to process the past or fretting about the future, often to my detriment. Living in the moment doesn't come naturally to me for a multitude of reasons, a few of which I hope to discuss here. It should be noted that while I am usually living somewhere in the past or in the future that I am not ignoring the details of the present - quite the contrary in fact. When in social situations, my inner Sherlock Holmes comes out and I am constantly trying to read people: their body language, tattoos, piercings, jewelry, hair length and style, the kind of shoes they wear and how worn they may be, the word choice they use, stance, etc. You can infer a lot about someone just from those quick and constant observations alone. While some people may call it "living in the moment" or "mindfulness", it is generally agreed upon that the practice has numerous health benefits including (but certainly not limited to) reduced stress, anxiety, and depression. There are many ways to achieve being in the moment, but I think something that maybe gets ignored is that if you have had a traumatic past or if your future just seems daunting and hopeless, it can be that much more difficult to live in the moment. Is it possible to live in the moment without dealing with past trauma? Is it possible to be mindful of the moment when you're constantly having to worry about your schedule or the next bill that's due? I don't pretend to know the answer, only that I know that hashing out and trying to process the problems of the past (and future) can only help achieve being in the moment more easily. So, I will first start by trying to process my past.


From the moment I was born at 12:23pm on November 21st, 1989, I have been different. While the rest of my immediate family was born in or near my small hometown of Aledo, Illinois, I came into this world in La Grange, a suburb of Chicago. My family was living in Bolingbrook at the time and my father was working in the city. While there were plans for me to be born in Aledo, things obviously took a different direction. My mother and I ended up coming home from the hospital two days later on November 23rd, which just so happened to be Thanksgiving Day. My family finally moved back to Aledo in June of 1991 and I have essentially lived here ever since (with the exception of extended medical stays in Arizona).
When I think of my past, it's difficult for me to not immediately think about the negative. Deaths, divorce, disease, and depression unfortunately pretty well summarize my first twenty six years (I am thirty-one at the time of writing). That is not to say that there weren't plenty of good times. Without my grandparents though, I have very serious doubts about how well I would have turned out or whether I would even still be here at all. My living in the past is something I've been doing for about as long as I can remember. There's been this repeating thought of things being better in my past than they are now. That being said, there has also been a repeating thought of wishing things had been different. It's a strange dilemma. The one constant between them all though is that I am incredibly blessed, proud, and happy with how I came out from the trauma since it could (and probably should) have easily broken me. By the grace of God, I have survived a cerebellar ataxia, severe asthma attacks, my parent's divorce, the deaths of my grandparents, bullying, anxiety, depression, suicidal ideations, and ulcerative colitis. These things helped make me into the person I am today, but I try not to let them define me. They all have positive aspects about them that I am able to appreciate and draw upon into the present and for that, I am eternally grateful. I told a friend of mine once that the last time I really felt close to God was when I felt most broken (physically and spiritually). It was right before one of my surgeries at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona that I had time to go into the chapel and pray. I was more scared, hopeless, and doubtful than I think had ever felt in my life. There was this feeling that if this surgery didn't work, what then? What will my life look like in five years? I can honestly say that none of my working two jobs, being Chairman of the Board at a local housing authority, and becoming a homeowner was even so much as a thought worth entertaining six years ago when I had those questions. I have made more progress in the last six years than in all the years leading up to that combined, and I suppose that is what I get most upset and frustrated about when I look back at my past. I say to myself, “Why didn’t I just have the damn surgery sooner? Why did you put yourself through all that Hell of medications, colonoscopies, nausea, vomiting, weight loss, bone less, depression, anxiety, and medical debt just to delay what was probably inevitable from the beginning? What could I have accomplished in the seven years that colitis took from me?”. It’s a valid question, but one that unfortunately doesn’t change anything at the end of the day and can drive anyone mad at the immense possibilities. These frustrations and questions lead me into the present – a persistent feeling like I have a lot of ‘catching up to do’ so to speak.


While entering the title for this blog entry, I accidentally typed "Loving in the Moment" instead of "Living in the Moment". While I laughed at my mistake at first, I got to thinking about how appropriate of a title and line of thinking that actually is. Being in the moment, at least in my estimation anyway, doesn't just mean to be observant. It means to show love: to really listen to what is being said, to not cut any corners, to look at someone when they are speaking, to be practical and helpful to the needs of those around you, etc. Loving in the moment is to constantly put the best of yourself out there, as unnatural and uncomfortable as that may be at times. As for me and my future, I am going to choose to live (and love) in the moment.

People have often expressed their surprise and satisfaction with how much my life has positively changed in the last six years. I am often told that I work too hard or too much and that I need to put the tools down and take a rest. While I genuinely understand and appreciate their intentions, I wish they could see that I am working as hard as I can as much as I can tolerate to give myself (and God willing, my family) the best future possible. You see, living and loving in the moment also means sacrifice: giving up your present comforts for a better tomorrow. This can take place in small or large measures. One drastic example of sacrifice that I've recently undertaken has been to begin selling many of the video games that I have collected over the past fifteen or so years. I have really only sold a fraction of what I ought to, and I am already nearing a ninety day total of $1,000. I just don't hardly have the time nor energy (or desire for that matter honestly) for video games anymore. I look at something sitting on a shelf and think "that could help pay off a credit card, help pay for a project, or cover a night out with her." The closer I get to myself and God, the further I am getting from such worldly things. As boring and basic as it may be, I want the old-fashioned American dream: A beautiful home with a beautiful wife and family. I want to expand and beautify the kingdom of God, and I can't do that when I'm surrounded by chaos and distractions that go against that.

 

My priorities this year (and especially these last few months with becoming a homeowner and meeting someone special) have changed dramatically. In a literal matter of weeks, I went from being angry, introverted, abandoned and suicidal to owning a home, gaining an incredible support group of amazing friends, and re-establishing a connection to God. A few nights ago as I was sitting outside around the fire pit, I poured myself a drink and prayed (and I mean REALLY prayed). I prayed for my friend's health, housing, and work situations, for my parents safe travel from a trip overseas, for seasons of uncertainty to be calmed by His presence, for reassurance that my family and friends really do love and care about me and to remove any doubts, and (probably selfishly) that if something (or in this case someone) I desire is not meant to be that it is made absolutely clear. 

 

I am someone that is constantly trying to improve himself. I set lofty but attainable expectations with the mindset that if I am not improving in some way, I am falling. Within the next few years, I pray I can be debt free (credit cards and personal loans anyway), be eating better (currently difficult to do without a refrigerator or oven), be kinder to myself (difficult when you've been surrounded by so much negativity for so long), be bolder by speaking what's on my mind more, and work up the courage to ask her out. This can only be achieved one day at a time by living (and loving) in the moment. Thank you for taking this one to read about mine.