Not being present

This morning I was talking to a friend about not being present when my son was little. I remember little of my life before Maine. I worked and tried my best to take care of this small person entrusted to me by the Universe. Some days when I arrived at work, I had no memory of the commute and when I was home, no memory of how I returned. It was job, groceries, pay bills, clean, cook, laundry, take care of pets and people with little or no time for myself. I had no assistance from my husband and seldom knew where he was or with whom. My days were packed minute to minute and I only allowed myself four hours of sleep a night. I had no concept of how to mother my son or be a friend to the man I lived with for 23 years. Maybe that’s when I started to absent myself. I was so absorbed with the next duty, next trip, next responsibility that I never lived in the present. I think for me I lived unconsciously. I was unconscious of anything but responsibility and pressing needs.

Frequently when I shower, I have to check to see if I used a wash cloth (Did I washed my face?) or feel my hair (Was it shampooed?) I can still completely leave where I am and go to the next event or project or dinner menu or appointment. I can still not be present.

I want to live my life more deliberately now, take the time a task requires without rushing, savoring every moment of the process and truly be in that moment. I am making a quilt for my new grandson, Zac, who will make his appearance on this planet in December. I want to be present when he is around and give that relationship all the time it requires savoring each minute.

When I was younger I didn’t know much and now I am just starting to get a clue. I feel so fortunate that I have not had to go through my entire life, this lifetime, without ever learning to STOP and look around me and pay attention. I want to live with intention.