This instant is the only time there is

I can miss an entire experience by comparing it with what happened before or preparing for what comes next.

The present becomes a hallway between two rooms I consider more important.

I remember having lunch with someone I had not seen in a long time. I had looked forward to it, yet part of my mind kept evaluating whether we still connected as easily as we once had.

While they spoke, I compared the conversation with older ones. Then I began wondering what the relationship would look like after we left.

I was using the past and future to avoid the only meeting we were actually having.

When I noticed, I returned to the expression on their face and the sentence they were finishing.

Nothing dramatic changed. I simply became available.

This instant is the only time in which I can listen, forgive, speak honestly, or receive love. The past can inform me and the future can be planned for, but neither can be lived.

Today I want to notice when my attention leaves the moment in order to evaluate its meaning.

Presence does not require me to forget history or abandon preparation.

It asks me to stop sacrificing the living instant to thoughts about time.

God is not waiting in a better memory or a more settled future.

He is available in the ordinary second I keep passing through on my way to somewhere else.