Sometimes, the pressure to be fully engaged can overwhelm us. Just the other day, I found myself in a situation that exemplified this struggle. I had completely lost track of time and forgot that my son Leo had hockey practice scheduled for that holiday. In a last-minute scramble, I rescheduled my mother’s dinner visit to accommodate the change. We were late, and I was irritable and stressed. By the time I finally got Leo in the car—hockey gear hastily thrown on—and was en route to pick up his teammate, I felt tears welling up inside me.
It’s remarkable how swiftly our emotions can shift, isn’t it? Just the night before, we had celebrated Leo’s birthday with a delightful dinner at his favorite restaurant, a homemade triple chocolate cake (which involved a scavenger hunt across three stores for ingredients), and gifts. I had sat at the table, basking in the warm glow of candlelight, feeling grateful and at peace. My little boy was now eight years old.
But here I was, standing outside the rink, fighting back tears, freezing because I had forgotten my hat and gloves in my haste. I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets and leaned my forehead against the cold plexiglass, watching Leo skate. My breath quickened, and I felt an overwhelming heaviness: I was trying to do too much, and as a result, I felt like I was failing at everything. I was simply exhausted.
As I took a shaky breath, I found myself recalling a Billy Joel lyric: “This is the time to remember, because it will not last forever…” A wave of new emotions washed over me, mixing chastisement with annoyance. I was acutely aware of my desire to live in the moment, yet burdened by the expectation that I could do so flawlessly all the time. Was my persistent fear of not being present actually preventing me from being present?
I’m not entirely sure. I suspect that I was less aware of these feelings before I began pondering them. However, my awareness of my shortcomings in fully engaging with my life is painfully acute.
I glanced at Leo, his figure a blur through my tears. I long for these years to be fully lived, to be attentive, and to savor every moment. Yet, I often find myself falling short, letting my fatigue or frustration overshadow the beauty of our imperfect, everyday life. It pains me to think of all the moments I’ve already let slip by; I don’t even want to blink for fear of missing out on anything else.
That night, I couldn’t shake the melody from my mind:
“This is the time to remember / Cause it will not last forever. / These are the days to hold onto / Cause we won’t, although we’ll want to / This is the time, but time is going to change.”
This reflection serves as a reminder to cherish the present and recognize the beauty in our daily lives, even amidst the chaos. For tips on navigating parenting and more, check out our insightful article on home insemination kits.
Summary
In this piece, Julia Matthews reflects on the struggle between wanting to be fully present in the moment and the anxiety that often accompanies this desire. Through a personal story about her son’s hockey practice, she explores how the pressure to engage completely can sometimes lead to feelings of failure and exhaustion. Ultimately, she emphasizes the importance of appreciating the present, even when life feels overwhelming.
Keyphrase
Fear of Not Being Present
Tags
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