The Power of Being Present

 As I near the finish line of my training plan, and the starting line of the Chicago Marathon, I am dealing with a lot of mental noise.  Some of the themes are not new, and centre on questions of my ability to complete the training I have left (a big week is on the horizon!), how I may or may not fare in the event itself, and what my running plans might be after this event is complete.  What I find interesting is the absence of thoughts that focus on the present moment.  Instead of noticing how I am feeling at any one moment in time, I am either ruminating about how I felt the last time I went out, or anxious about how I might feel on the next run.  I am quite sure that I am not alone in this, not only in the realm of folks who are preparing for a meaningful event of some sort, but also for folks who are simply living everyday life.  It is extremely difficult to be present, and to be able to notice when you are not.

A few years back I was given a very painful and impactful reminder of the necessity to remain present regardless of external and internal swirl.  I was in the kitchen of the house I co-owned with my ex.  We were in the initial stages of ending our marriage and I had been out looking for an apartment to move into while we sorted out next steps.  The day had been filled with many emotions - uncertainty, fear, excitement, anticipation, and sadness.  I was thinking about the properties that I had viewed while I was raising a glass of water to take a drink.  The glass slipped out of my hand and toppled onto our granite countertop, causing it to break.  As the broken shards fell to the floor, one managed to slit the base of my pinky finger on my right hand.  I did not feel the cut occur, but saw the blood and knew almost immediately that this was not the type of cut that would be sorted out with a bandage and some polysporin.  Off to the hospital we went.  I could move my finger but could not feel it, and the doctor in emergency stitched up the incision but told me that because it was only my pinky, there was nothing that she could do about the numbness.  A few days later I went to see a hand specialist and when I recounted the story to him, he was of a very different opinion.  I ended up returning in a few hours to have the incision re-opened so he could attempt to reattach the severed nerve in the hopes of bringing feeling back to my finger and to spare me from a lifetime of nerve pain that I would most likely experience otherwise.  As a protective measure, I was required to wear a rather large and bulky hand splint for six weeks, eventually downgrading to a less intrusive device for a few more weeks until my finger was deemed to be fully healed.  To this day, my numb finger serves as a reminder of the importance of being present for all of life's moments.  Perhaps if I had not been caught up in my thoughts I might not have knocked over the glass in the first place, or might have been able to react more quickly and moved my hand out of harm's way. 

Being present and coming back to the present moment is a work in progress for me.  Reigning in my runaway thoughts is not an easy task, and being able to notice when they decide to start wandering is a skill in itself.  I am also learning to accept that regardless of how many books I read or podcasts I listen to on the topic, this is a skill that needs to be reinforced and honed with ongoing practice, kindness, and understanding.  The payoff of being present is worth the work, and is something I will continue to pursue as I Kerri on down the road.