Choosing to live in the moment does not come naturally…But it’s worth it!
For an article about choosing to live in the moment, the title seems like it’s living in the past. Don’t worry, dear reader. It’ll make sense soon enough…
But, first, a preface…
Therapy certainly hasn’t solved, or even unearthed yet, all of my issues. What it has done, however, has incrementally taught me more about myself as a mother, a wife, and a person. I’ve gained new perspective over the past few months and notice more readily when I’m in the midst of learning a new lesson. Especially about how I just generally function.
10/10. Highly recommend therapy. Just make sure you find a good therapist.
Anyway, one of the myriad of lessons I’m currently learning is in how many ways I actually dissociate. Sure, it can be full disconnection. Tuning out and mentally escaping the environment. Locking myself in my mind for a few minutes isn’t always even something that I’m consciously aware that I’m doing. But I do it.
And post celebration-endurance-marathon season this year, a singular realization came crashing in. The way that I frequently and actively choose not to live in the moment…
Living in the FUTURE!
Nathan said it best.
So, we’re out in the garage working out one night, and as I wrap up to head in, Nathan asks me how I want to spend the evening.
We’ve just recently planned and bought airfare for a summer trip to Pennsylvania. A S.U.M.M.E.R trip. I tease that I’m going to go in and start detail-planning and Amazon shopping for in-flight entertainment/toys/accessories for Orson and Nova.
“No, you have to stop. You will literally latch onto anything in the future to keep you from living in the present. It’s several months away.”
Man, I am soooo guilty of this. He said it smirking, light-spirited ribbing and joshing tough love, but he is absolutely right. It’s just another way that I dissociate and detach from the environment. I intentionally choose not to live in the moment by obsessing over minute things I can’t exert any control over now.
Bullet Points
To a certain extent, since I found out I was pregnant with Orson, I’ve leaned hard into this pattern of thinking. Likely triggered by stress and anxiety over that impending major life change, but I know I’ve depended on dissociation even from a young age to cope.
Made it through childhood, and all I got was this lousy dissociative amnesia…
That being said, once the ball got rolling, it snowballed exponentially! I’d find myself repeatedly externally processing my mental to-do list to Nathan, just in a failed attempt to get it out of my head so I wouldn’t spiral.
Perfect recent example of this:
Gotta think about when to reattempt potty-training with Orson… Or when to really start training Nova… Do I really want to have to train them simultaneously… And with their ages, I need to start researching preschool curriculums for homeschool… I’m a terrible mom that I haven’t taught Orson to READ yet!… And I definitely have to make sure I write something for the blog to go out later this week… Hmm, I should probably plan to buy gummy worms for the ear pressure during take off and landing, since the babies are too little for gum… I’ll make sure to check if Black Forest has any gummy worms… And don’t forget, Django needs a February vet appointment for discounted dental cleaning…. And…
So you can just hazard a guess as to what it was like dealing with me PREGNANT.
But, I’ve got to say, getting a Bullet Journal and LEUCHTTURM1917 monthly planner for Christmas this year has been LIFE-CHANGING. I even have space in my Bullet Journal for a FUTURE LOG. I schedule things I plan to do months from now, so I really can get it OUT of MY HEAD and LIVE IN THE MOMENT!
“Should”ing All Over Myself
My therapist shared this phrase with me, and I couldn’t possibly identify with it anymore than I already do. I SHOULD be doing this. I SHOULD be doing that…I SHOULD choose to live in the moment.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It’s all another way I self-condemn, heap on shame for imaginary failures. The ever-present “Mom guilt” that throws me into a tailspin toward fight-or-flight. Staying in this shame-filled mindset only perpetuates my maladjusted coping mechanism of dissociation.
As I’m choosing to live in the moment, however, I’m learning that dealing with stressful situations ultimately boils down to three choices:
1. Escape
2. Endure
3. Enjoy
I’d like to say that it’s practicable to “enjoy every moment, fellow Mamas, they’re only young once”. But we ALL know that’s bullshit platitudes. For lack of a better term. It’s condescending and flat-out shaming.
There is certainly something to be said in gaining satisfaction and enjoyment from tackling difficulty head on. Doesn’t mean it’s enjoyable in the moment.
Escaping isn’t inherently negative, I suppose. It’s great for the sake of mental health to take “an escape” once in a while. To the other room for a deep breath. To the day spa for a massage. The bar for a much-deserved, once-in-a-while drink. Maybe a comfort run to Target for all the stuff you know you don’t REALLY need. (Treat yo’self.)
But disconnecting completely and escaping into your own head just to cope… When that’s your reflexive go-to, escaping is more problem than solution.
Endurance is ideal. Endurance is self-discipline, growth and patience, stretching beyond perceived limits of tolerance to find that you’re stronger than you realize. It isn’t denying the pain in the struggle. It’s finding strength in weakness. Stay present, push through. You’re learning, and it will get easier to live in the moment.
Happy New Year!
There are also many small moments that I wish I could escape, but choose to endure with patience, and enjoy immensely in retrospect. Enter the title: Happy New Year!
I’m a bear in the mornings. I don’t sleep well at all. I’m a light, restless sleeper, and even if I get to bed early, I never wake up refreshed. Even pre-kids. At times of heightened stress (like the holidays), it’s even worse. I toss and turn, startle at the slightest peep on the baby monitor, or even have stress dreams about being back in my childhood home…
January 13th. TWO WEEKS INTO THE NEW YEAR. While hosting family for a weekend visit. Orson wakes up at 5:55 AM, when I’d finally fallen asleep sometime after 1:00 AM, fixated for 10 grueling minutes on the phrase “Happy New Year!”
We wake to sobbing screams through the monitor. It takes a few moments to even decipher what he’s saying… And then it clicks.
You’d think it would settle him, that his words were understood and returned, but no matter how many times I’d calmly remind him “Happy New Year, Orson. You’re safe, we love you. It’s time to go back to sleep” he’d inconsolably respond with a tearful salutation: “Happy New Year! Happy New Year!”
As previously mentioned, it took about 10 long-suffering minutes for the New Year’s Night Terror to conclude.
The way this kid loops on stuff… I mean, I get it; I live it. But especially when it surrounds his sleep (or Mama’s sleep) or escalates toward a tantrum, it’s all too easy to want to surrender to my dissociative proclivities. That, for instance, was not a moment I particularly wanted to live in, but I can certainly laugh about it now.
Live in the Moment
It is hard to always choose to live in the moment. And you’ll still fail at it from time to time, like I do. But it does get easier. And the return on investment is incomparable.
Being present, just practically speaking, opens me up to embracing experiences. Modeling enthusiasm for mundane moments. Opening our home to more spontaneity. Evening Disney dance parties.
Sing for me, my angel(s)!
I’ve had my attention caught more readily by hearing my toddlers singing. Instead of missing the moment, having their sweet, soprano voices drowned out by the white noise in my head.
What a joy it is, in-tune or not, hearing Orson and Nova go through the list of their greatest hits: “Let It Go!” “Under the Sea!” Humming the Dies Irae nod in Frozen 2’s “Into the Unknown!” I’ll even catch them singing the “Oompa Loompa song” or “Jingle Bells” from their beds at naptime.
Doin’ hard time… Together.
Having asides with Nova or Orson if they’ve earned a time-out (2- or 3-minutes, respectively–one minute per age). It’d be far too easy to give warnings, feel things escalating, retreat mentally and zone out… Or, alternatively, put them in a time-out and leave them isolated, emotionally disconnected.
But choosing endurance, when it would be easier to escape, has allowed me to address the behavior while still allowing connection and love. Choosing to live in the moment gives ample opportunity to compassionately discipline.
I love you, so I can’t let you act in an unsafe way. You’re going to sit in this chair for three minutes, and I’m going to be with you. We’ll talk about the choice you made that got you in time-out, and what choices we can make instead in the future that are safe.
Perhaps this post doesn’t resonate.
I write about these things, things that just feel so small, so everyday, so generally easy to miss or take for granted anyway. But I guess, for me, I realize how much I stand to lose by giving in to dissociation and staying there so frequently. Moments of joy, moments of discipline and growth, for self and for my children if I don’t choose to live in the moment.
There is room for grace here.
The terrible two’s, threenager three’s, and surly, static seventeen’s are in full swing in Mamasaur’s house. SOMETIMES it feels like the best thing I CAN do to avoid being reactive is hide in my head and/or scroll my screen. But… It’s when I cripple myself by only ever choosing a deep dive into dissociation that something has GOT to give.
So, that’s what I’ve been learning. Learning more balance. Learning how to CHOOSE to live in the moment. As much as I can. Even when it’s brutal. Even when I’d rather escape. Learning that making the choice to live in the moment DOES get easier the more you do it.
When not every moment CAN be enjoyed, there’s still value in simply EXPERIENCING it and letting it grow you.
What a great “Happy New Year” resolution!