How Much Life Do We Miss ?

I caught myself doing something the other day that I suspect I do far more often than I’d like to admit. I was sitting outside with a coffee. It was a beautiful day. The sun was out. The yard looked good. Nobody needed me at that particular moment which literally, should have been celebrated all on its own. And what was I doing? Thinking about something that had happened earlier. Then something I needed to do later. Then something that might happen next week. I had managed to be in three different time zones without ever leaving my chair.

Apparently, my brain doesn't believe in vacation days. And I suddenly thought: How often do we do this? How often are we physically somewhere but mentally somewhere else entirely? We're there but are we really? I don't think any of us deliberately decide to miss our own lives. We don't wake up in the morning and think: Today I'm going to completely ignore all the good things happening around me while worrying about things I can't control. Although some days, I have to admit, I seem remarkably talented at it.

We just get busy. There are appointments to remember, bills to pay, groceries to buy, people to worry about, messages to answer and approximately 47 things that need to be done before Thursday. And then there are the things that aren't on any list. The conversation we're replaying. The thing somebody said. The thing somebody didn’t say. The problem we haven't figured out yet. The imaginary conversation we're having with someone who isn't even in the room. Those are particularly productive. I usually win those.

Meanwhile, life is happening right in front of us in moments that don’t look important. When we talk about appreciating life, we tend to think about the big moments. The vacations. The weddings. The birthdays. Christmas morning. The beautiful places we've travelled. Those are for sure part of it. But I'm starting to think the moments we're most likely to miss aren't the big ones. They're the ridiculously ordinary ones. Coffee or tea in the backyard. A family dinner where everyone is talking at once. A drive with someone you love. The grandchildren doing something hilarious. Someone calling from another room. Sitting beside your husband watching television and realizing neither of you has spoken for twenty minutes which, depending on the day, may actually be the secret to a successful marriage.

It's all so ordinary while it's happening. That's the problem. Ordinary doesn't demand our attention. It doesn't stand in front of us waving its arms saying: pay attention, you’re going to miss this one day. It just quietly happens. And then it's gone.

I think our phones get too much of the blame actually.  Don't get me wrong. Phones are terrible for this. You pick yours up to check one text and somehow, fifteen minutes later, you're reading about a woman in Saskatchewan whose golden retriever adopted a baby squirrel. I don't even know this woman. Or the squirrel. Yet somehow, I've become emotionally invested.

But I don't think our phones are entirely to blame. Sometimes the biggest distraction is our own mind. Worry can steal a perfectly good afternoon. Resentment can ruin a dinner. An argument that happened yesterday can follow us into today. And planning for tomorrow can take us completely out of the life we're actually living. I've done all of those. Probably this week.

Maybe that's the question I'm going to start asking myself. Not: How do I become completely present and peaceful at all times? Because that sounds exhausting and highly unlikely. Just: Does this need me right now? Can I do anything about it in this moment? If not, maybe I can put it down for a while. The problem will still be there later. Problems are wonderfully dependable that way. But the moment I'm in? That one might not be.

We spend so much time waiting.  I think many of us live with the idea that we'll really enjoy life when things settle down. When there's less stress. When there's more money. When the house is finished. When the kids are settled. When everyone is getting along. When we've lost the weight. When we've made the decision. When we've solved whatever problem currently feels enormous. Then we'll relax. Except life doesn't seem particularly interested in cooperating with that plan.

Something always comes along. Just when one problem settles down, another one pokes its head around the corner and says: Hi. Got a minute?  So maybe we have to stop waiting for the perfect conditions to enjoy our lives. Because they may never come.

Two things can be true.  This is something I'm learning more and more as I get older. You can be worried about something and have a wonderful afternoon. You can be sad about one part of your life and grateful for another. You can be frustrated with someone and still love them. You can have absolutely no idea how something is going to work out and enjoy your dinner tonight.

We don't have to solve everything before we're allowed to feel joy. That's a big one for me. Because I think sometimes we put happiness on hold until everything else is okay. And everything else is rarely completely okay.

Maybe this is the good stuff.  I wonder how many things we're doing today that we'll miss one day. The noise in the house. The person sitting in their usual chair. The family dinners that are sometimes chaotic. The grandchildren running through the door. The familiar voice calling our name. The drives we've taken a hundred times. The people who are simply just there.

We don't photograph most of these moments. We don't post about them. We don't think of them as particularly special. But maybe that's exactly what makes them special. They're our life. Not the highlight reel. Not the vacation. Not the big celebration. They are a weekday afternoon. The cup of coffee.  The conversation in the kitchen. The person sitting beside us. I'm never going to become one of those people who floats peacefully through life completely present in every moment. Let's not get carried away. I'll still worry. I'll still overthink things. I'll probably still pick up my phone to check the weather and somehow end up learning far more than I ever needed to know about that squirrel in Saskatchewan.

But I do want to get better at noticing when I'm somewhere wonderful even wonderfully ordinary and my mind has wandered off without me. To stop occasionally. Look around. Listen. Put the phone down. Let tomorrow wait. And remind myself: You are here. This is your life happening right now.

Maybe that's what living a beautiful life really is. Not having more extraordinary moments. Just getting better at noticing the ordinary ones before they're gone.

Remember that old saying, “Stop and smell the roses”? I think we could all use a little more of that. Although, these days, we'd probably stop, take twelve pictures of the roses, find the best angle, check our phone while we're there and completely forget to smell them.

So maybe we simplify it. Stop and smell the flowers before next thought. Whatever flowers happen to be in front of you. Because life isn't always going to hand us roses.

But there's almost always something worth stopping for.