In the Moment

I always wanted to live in the moment, but lately, I’ve been having a bit of trouble not obsessing over every little thing.  Every occurrence, every word.  It wasn’t until I read your essay that my attention became divided.  I had been content with myself and my daily life until your words brought me out of my shell. 

I usually shied away from reading essays as I was often more interested in fictionalized accounts of life over personal accounts.  Why should a stranger’s feelings about how terrible the world is effect my well-being?  That was until I read your essay on community, life and how kindness plays a part in our everyday life.  What if being in the moment wasn’t good enough?   

The more I pondered your essay, the more anxious I became.  The more anxious I became, the more I paced.  The more I paced, the less I slept.  The less I slept, the more irritated I got.  I did the only thing I knew to do when I didn’t feel well, I called my mother. 

My mother was not the most reliable of sources because she was about as neurotic as I was. Maybe even more so. As soon as I told her what was happening, she instantly became quiet. Instantly had ‘business to attend to.’ Her reaction made me dig deeper into you, into your words. The more I researched, the more obsessed I became. Until I found out who you were and where you came from. 


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