Living in the Moment

You know, I've always thought that one of the main reasons I was so anxious all the time was that I didn't live in the moment, but I discovered last night, that is far from the truth.

I was huffing around the house, irked that I was cleaning up after dinner, after walking the dogs, after feeding Boogie, doing laundry, cleaning the litter box, generally spending my Sunday taking care of everything and everyone but me. I was also trying to impress upon my husband the fact that Boogie is going to copy whatever he does, so he needed to get his act together. He had been eating corn kernels with his fingers, belching at the dinner table and generally being a pig, and she mimicked every disgusting act that he performed.

So I was standing in the hall surveying the damage to my house and plotting how to clean the biggest mess with the least amount of effort so that I could go upstairs and start a new book before I fell asleep. P bent over to put his shoes on to take out the trash, and let one rip. I restrained my fury and called him a pig. Feeling proud of myself for not losing my cool, I started cleaning the massive piles of newspaper that were beginning to take over the house since we started delivery. P came inside to grab the recycling, and as he walked past me he let out a huge stinking belch that reeked of corn and salmon, mayo and hippy water ... and I socked him in the arm.

In that moment, that single instant without thought, where my arm flew out from my side and connected with the source of my disgust and fury, I realized, Dude! I was totally in the moment right there!

And see, now I realize that when I am truly aggravated, I'm entirely in the moment, not contemplating the future repercussions of my actions. Now I just have to figure out how to do that more when I'm happy.

:)