The Art of Being

The other day I was driving and thinking back on my week, the month, this entire year. It suddenly dawned on me how comfortable I’ve become with just being. I don’t mean sitting around watching TV inside all day. I mean calmly and happily existing.

I use to be a really restless person. I couldn’t stand it when I didn’t have somewhere to go, something scheduled to do. I’d run myself ragged all day and night, then crash. When I was still, I felt like life was passing me by. Like I was missing something.

I tried everything in the past to try and “live in the moment.” Heavy exercise, meditation, afternoon tea, meditative walks. I always felt like I was forcing myself to be still and my mind was always fighting it.

Somewhere along the line, it just stopped. I naturally realized that life is what happens, whether you are doing something or not. I could see that the more I crammed into my day, the faster it went by and the less I appreciated and enjoyed the smaller moments. I guess I was sort of a “party chaser.”

So now I’m just here - happy writing, creating, taking on little DIY projects, cooking, planting, pruning, watching the squirrel outside eat all of my bird seed. I’m not sure whether it comes with age? Or maybe it’s because I’ve found so many quiet creative outlets? I do know that I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.

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