|Photograph by Jamie Fischer Phtography|
I've been afraid of the moment. Because the moment means I'm passing through, like the hours, like the seasons. No matter what I choose to acknowledge, reality doesn't change. The unknown doesn't reveal herself, the minutes don't organize themselves in satin boxes for me to relive whenever I choose. The only thing that changes is the feeling I experience. I've been terrified of my sadness, terrified that it will just be too much, that it will cause me to explode right along with my illusion of safety. But there's one piece that my protective self needed to learn: my feelings are not predictive. They have no hold on whatever happens in the future. I am not jinxing myself if I allow sadness or grief over a possible scenario in the future. I am also not taking things for granted when I surrender to simple joy. I'm not arrogant if I'm happy. Happiness is brave, it's a march, it's the surrender to struggle and the stillness despite it. Happiness isn't arrogance, it's acceptance. It's love for the present moment, for the depth of each minute; it's love for the depth of pain as well as the depth of joy. It's not conditional, it simply is. It's a mindful embrace of now, and of all of the feelings that come along with it.