We were having one of those wide-ranging conversations that we tend to have now that we know each other a little better. We both work in the mental health field, which can be both a blessing and a curse when trying to talk candidly with someone!
My side of the conversation had included two things that it often includes, past travels/the Civil War and new technology.
“I’ve realized something about you,” she said.
“What’s that?” I said.
“You like very old things and very new things that are coming in the future.”
I thought about this for a minute, agreed in my head that this was indeed true, and was ready to let the conversation move on. It seemed, however, that she wanted to say more.
“And?” I asked, giving her that opportunity.
She paused for just a millisecond. I did not see it coming.
“You have trouble living in the present.”
And there it was.
One of those moments that is so simply and nakedly profound that it hits you right between the eyes with a force so strong that it knocks the wind out of you for a few seconds.
As I usually do when I am uncomfortable, I responded with my tried-and-true coping strategy, the use of humor.
“That was an excellent interpretation, but your timing is lousy. Where did you do your training again?”
She knew enough to let me sit with it. To let me own it.
Sometimes the biggest truths in our lives come to us in the quietest, gentlest ways, knocking us off our feet for a few minutes, leaving us dazed and wondering on the ground. Gazing up at the bright sun and realizing that we now know something about ourselves that we can either ignore, or use to move forward and make ourselves better.
It’s six thirty AM. It’s a new day, a new week.
I will choose to live in the present today.