I just found a letter from an ex-boyfriend, tucked away in a little box covered in cartoon reindeers dressed as christmas elves. My goodness. Isn’t it the most amazing thing— to find little pieces of the past that take you right back in time, and ask you to dive into certain memories and feel them all over again.
In the letter, my boyfriend of the time had mentioned that he’d just watched the movie When Harry Met Sally, and he marvelled at how similar my personality was to Meg Ryan’s character. How funny! Only recently I was told that very same thing by a friend who knows the now version of me. I mustn’t have changed all that much in fifteen or so years, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. We’ll just go with: it totally is, okay guys.
It’s interesting. Only yesterday, coming down the mountain, I mulled over the idea of living in the present moment; thinking of the benefits, but also thinking of the fact that this now moment also restricts the human experience in certain ways. The memories, for instance. Beautiful memories that play in the mind like a movie, and play in the heart like the sweetest song.
The past does not exist in the present moment. Nor does the future. And yet such colour can be found in the times and places that once lived a moment of their own, moments that now only exist if a person chooses to allow them to resurface as conscious thought.
There’s also the matter of daydreaming— every dreamer’s staple diet. To live in the present moment is surely to rob those that identify as ‘a dreamer’ of a major part of their core essence, meaning, I suppose, that ‘a dreamer’ really would no longer identify as ‘a dreamer’ at all (omg, say it isn’t soooo!)
I guess the question I’m asking is: is the elimination of ego and identity entirely necessary, in order to live a happy, enlightened-ish life. Is it? I don’t know, I’d be interested in hearing some of your perspectives on this because I’m still a little on the fence.
Anyway, I’ve waffled on a bit there, haven’t I. I just think it’s kind of a fascinating idea, living in the moment. There is no denying that there really is such power in living for the now. Every piece of a person’s soul is present and available to be used, whereas, living in the past or future kind of scatters a person’s soul, causing it to technically be somewhere else (back then, or, someday.)
Have I absolutely confused you with all the existential rambling? Probably, and I hope not. I just think it’s an area of spirituality and mindfulness that’s a little bit restrictive to the human experience, depending on which way you look at it. It’s an idea I’ve been pondering of late, so I thought I’d share it with you guys and see what you think.
To live in the moment, or not to live in the moment. That is the question.
It’s a world for thinkers, isn’t it, this one we live in?
A world where everything has a name. A world where everything and everyone has a reason to be. In this thinking dominated world, it’s all about the boxes, isn’t it? You know the ones—you’re hovering over one right this very minute, trying to decide if and how these words will fit into your life. By the end of reading this, you should know which box this little blog post of mine belongs in. And for the real dreamers among you…you knew from the very first sentence. Didn’t you?
I should probably explain this idea of ‘boxes’ from my place in the world as a creative person—a musician, an actor, a writer, a dreamer—because I’m betting there are flocks of my kind out there, who glide along on the surface of life, happy enough to go with the flow, but feeling, somehow, that they are a bit of an imposter in this big old world of thinking and doing.
When I was in my late teens, I looked at the world and I just knew my wide-eyed dreams didn’t quite belong. Every face I passed on the street seemed to live under a blanket of grey, dead eyes going about life like it was just something that must be done, without question, without…colour. Was this what I had to look forward to? Dreams all wrapped up, locked away behind the curtain of responsibility? Right then and there, in my sparkling seventeen-year old wonderland, I closed my eyes tight and I swore to myself. This will never happen to me.
I’ve thought about that moment so many times over the past fifteen years or so. Because guess what? That promise I made to myself, the one that gifted me a life of floating in the breeze, of spreading my wings wide and flying into the setting sun—I smashed it to pieces. This thinking world smashed it to pieces. Sucked up the dreams. Spat me out on the other side all shiny and nice and ready to please everyone other than the person that mattered most in my life. Me. I know when it happened, too. It was around about the time I joined the work-life crowd when I bundled everything I was into neatly labeled boxes and became a responsible adult. And right before my very eyes—without me even knowing it was happening— my lovely little dream world was trampled flat.
For those of you who’ve come to know me via this blog, or my old one, you might be surprised to hear that my dream world ever went anywhere—since I very definitely have been plonking bits and pieces of it into these little bloggy worlds of mine, for a few years now. But yes. It did go somewhere for a time.
Well! Quite happily, and for no particular reason, it seems like I just might be back. All of me. Because after all these years of thinking that my ‘boxes’ needed to be packed in the same way as everyone else’s boxes…I’ve finally given myself permission to say this:
‘Dear world, I am a dreamer. I always have been, and I always will be. So, you can take your serious thoughts and angry eyes away from me, because giggling and sunshine is just what I do. And I will do my very best never to forget that again.’