Now

 I am practicing the surrender of myself. Of my beliefs. Of my expectations. Of my control. I believe the best way to do that is to focus on what is in front of me. Right now. 

I finished the book "The Power of Now". It was very insightful and a very simple concept. If you are in the now, there is peace. Things can be so wrong, but there is an inner peace that is a gift of living now. I haven't lived "now" for some time. I worry about what will happen in the future which increases my anxiety or I allow my past experiences to define what my current situation means. Situations are completely different every time. I am fresh to this concept and I've heard it before, but to believe it and live it is another thing. There is no better time to practice more intensely the definition of living now, than now. Duh! I am one that works best when I can relate situations to analogies and metaphors. I am not artistic, but my mind is. It likes to draw a picture of what situations look like so it engraves deep into my mind to not forget. 

I enjoyed running marathons. I loved them. I'm not in the shape I used to be so it's a little daunting to think about now. I didn't think about the finish line, because when I did, I would struggle. My body would be pissed and react in a resentful way. A way of saying "Are you kidding me? We are on mile 6 and it took us almost an hour to get here and you want me to run another 20? NO! You're out of your freaking mind and I quit." It was almost as if I had to trick my body to keep going. But it wasn't a trick, I would be living in the now. The now is just one step. Calm down, you'll get there. Now take another step. I would run every race strong, confidently, and qualify for the Boston Marathon every time. The first marathon I trained for, I overtrained. I went into it injured. I popped ibuprofen at the starting line and began my journey anyway. I finished the race in 3:19, but I went into heart failure and couldn't walk normal for over 2 weeks. I didn't start running again for a bit after it and my cardiologist wanted me to quit running all together. I changed cardiologists to align with my goals and kept running. I had to get physical therapy and cortisone shots in my knee and butt. I just overdid it. There was a sense of pride that I had just pushed my body beyond it's own limits and although it hurt during the race, I kept going. DUMB! Healing takes more time when you run on injured tissue. I did learn that I wouldn't train as hard for my next marathon. In fact, I hardly trained at all and did what I had time for. I went into my next marathon with strong legs and a strong mind. I blew through that marathon and finished in 3:21. Just 2 minutes longer than the one I overtrained for. I went to a wedding that night and danced the night away with zero injuries. So, what did I learn from this and how does it even relate to my life right now?

When I force things into my life before time has healed whatever it is that needs healing, it can't get better. In fact, it gets worse. This is what they call "insult to injury". As I'm sitting here now, I recognize that this is what I do. I am not patient. I need to practice patience and let it be. Right now, I am happy. I can hear my little Joshua giggling with his friends as he games on his computer. I hear Juliana and her friend laughing and playing with V, our family dog. I have this awesome office that Joe set up for me to work and has become a place of solace for me to write down what I am experiencing. I am digging deep to understand that if I push or pull anyone into my life, it will end like my first marathon. We both walk away more injured than if we would have taken the time that I need, or he needs, or we all need. I made my promise of loyalty and although my fear of the unknown future creeps in, I have to really understand the healing process of time and live for now. I need to train for my relationship marathon as I did my second marathon. It's the only way. Whether we run the actual relationship marathon, together, or we run it with someone else, or alone, I will be ready.