Moment by Moment

I am learning to live moment by moment. It isn’t easy for me because I’ve always believed in planning. Planning has always brought me comfort. And often I like the planning of a thing more than the actual doing of the thing.

I think the poet Robert Burns said it best in 1785 when he wrote, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

And now, for me, at the age of 68, I have to say I agree.

What I’ve learned is that when I can let go of the planning (and my attachment to the plans), joyous gifts can reveal themselves.

Recently I headed to Cape Cod for a dream vacation with my two daughters and five grandchildren. To say I was excited was putting it mildly. However, my vacation (all of our vacation) was interrupted when an illness happened that required I be transported by ambulance and stay in the hospital for four days. This was not in the plan!

I wanted to be angry, but I was too sick and too drugged to muster anger or disappointment. And the doctor’s orders upon discharge said I could not travel home for two weeks. So not only were idyllic beach days full of seafood and ice cream down the drain, but also I was grounded at my daughter’s house for two additional weeks.

This series of events made being in the present moment and letting go of what I had planned absolutely necessary. It was kind of like a crash course in what I’d been resisting for a few years now, being present in what is rather than being sad or frustrated by what isn’t.

Here are some of the amazing things that did happen.

Things I hadn’t planned on that were beyond wonderful.

• My daughters rallied and took care of me like I was the most important thing in the world. Oh, what a gift.

• Two sons-in-law who not only were concerned but 100% supported my daughters to do what had to be done for me. Be still my heart.

• Five grandchildren who expressed genuine concern for me and saw to my every need for a drink of water or a hug during recovery.

• My former husband and his wife who stepped in to care for the grandkids so my daughter could be with me in the hospital for four days.

• A circle of true friends and beloved family who stayed in touch, sent messages directly and messages through my daughters. I felt so loved and it helped.

• A little Aussie puppy named Wendy who I fell in love with, and she fell in love with me. And it just so happened she needed a new home with room to run, other herding dogs to play with, and no male humans (she is deeply suspicious of them and prone to snarling and growling). And guess what? I live in such a place! And my housemate didn’t hesitate for a moment when I asked if Wendy could join the gang.

• My daughter who without skipping a beat said, “I will drive you home and fly back.” We had the 28 hours of uninterrupted, adult conversation and, for her, a couple of nights of uninterrupted sleep. The first in 10 years. My heart was bursting open as we just chatted and drove.

• My daughter and son-in-law who gave up their bedroom and bathroom for 11 days and nights so I could recover in peace and quiet. I will never forget that sacrifice.

Of course, there are always some things in life that require planning and as much as I’d like to avoid taking responsibility, I must deal with them. But overall, this lesson in letting go of what I’d planned or hoped for and being in the present moment allowed me to savor, embrace, and enjoy so many unexpected and amazing things. Things that if I were focused on frustration and disappointment, I would not have noticed.

John Lennon nailed it when he sang, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” And sometimes the “what happens” can be very difficult. However, what I’ve learned is that when I am emotionally quiet and still enough to notice, even within the tough stuff, there is also much goodness as well. These are the kind of beautiful moments that may never come my way again.

This is a lesson I intend to remember. Again and again.

How about you? Have you had an experience where your plans took a turn? What did you notice or experience within it that was unexpected and wonderful? I’d love to hear from you.

Beth