And that’s a GOOD thing.
Attending a 3-day management retreat, a week in San Francisco at training for work, a nasty cold, and preparations for an upcoming week of late-autumn camping on the eastern side of the Sierras have left little time for much else. Including training for the half-marathon! UGH! In addition to missing the last three Saturday team training sessions, I will also miss at least four out of the remaining 11.
I have moments of feeling tremendously guilty about missing the training sessions – I mean, they’re called TEAM sessions for a reason! – but then I have moments of lucidity when I realize WHY I’m unable to be there: because I’m fully and mindfully participating in my life! The good, the not-so-good, the drama, the peace – it’s all my life, and I’m grateful that I can experience it despite this cancer thing.
To be sure, the ability to be fully present is a hard task to master: the brain continually tries to wander in a dozen different directions. Buddhism and Taoist teachings call it “monkey mind” – the chattering, restless, uncontrollable little beast that noisily leaps from branch to branch, distracting one from quieting the mind.
The ability to tame the chattering monkey invites welcome clarity
and the ability to fully live in the moment.
This is the only life we have. Why would one want to spend it distracted by incessant
simian prattle? Thanks, but no – I’ll
continue to keep my mind monkey-free and cognizant of what’s happening right
now, in this moment.
And right now, as I write this, I’m sitting at my tiny desk
tucked into a corner of my bedroom, surrounded by windows letting in dappled
autumn light from the trees outside, listening to a Chopin nocturne, sipping on
a blueberry-raspberry-banana protein smoothie.
And fully aware of it all.
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