Direction

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” -- Lao Tsu

There is a famous road sign, here in Maine, that has been photographed more than any other attraction. It has had more pictures published than either Mount Katahdin or Cadillac Mountain, more than the famous Kittery Lighthouse and more than the picturesque harbors dotting the Maine coast. On this sign, on a rural road in inland, non-touristy Maine, lists the destinations of many of Maine's creatively named towns. From Norway to China and Sweden to Mexico, the sign post is legendary in its level of fame. People travel from all over just to have their picture taken next to it. It's appeared on magazine covers, in movies, on book jackets and used metaphorically by philosophers from all over New England. Why? Because, despite its campy, almost burlesque, appeal, it still represents a fixed point between many destinations. The goofiness of the names aside, this sign shows what direction you need to go, very clearly, to reach your destination.

At one time or another, I believe we've all wanted a road sign like this one. We have come to a place in our lives in which we haven't known which path to take. We have been confused over a possible move, a potential new direction in our careers, a relationship that might (or might not) be going to the next level. We have wondered if this is the right time to have or adopt a child, to purchase a home or to sell one. We have sat the crossroads, legs folded underneath us, and gazed in both directions...or in some cases, down multiple avenues. We have paused, uncertain, not knowing which route is the one that's best for us.

There are two schools on thought about these moments of intersection and turning point: the first is that, whichever road you find yourself taking, it will ultimately lead you to towards your fate, your karma, your destination that you are meant to have. In this mindset, the road we take doesn't matter. We will still learn the lessons whether we take the lane by the beach, or the hiking trail through the mountains...that both roads will eventually end up at the same end spot. We can choose to backpack around Europe for a few years, and then go to graduate school. Or, we can apply right away. But, with the passage of time, we'll be where our destiny lies at the end of the 'game'.

The other philosophy, when we find ourselves standing still and staring up at the signpost that points in multiple directions, is that every decision comes with it a consequence. Through that consequence, you will be proceeding, not in a linear fashion, but one that resembles more of a spiderweb or maze. Each choice, even the tiny ones such as, where to go for coffee, represent forks, diversions and can forever change the way our life unfolds. We will never truly understand that 'what might have been' end points because the forks aren't massive and arbitrary, they are small and our course changes every moment. The consequence that follows each decision will change our fate, change our direction and change our life. This isn't to say that we are unable to make course corrections, but even the correction itself can lead us on a completely new, untrod path. This philosophy leaves more to the journey's importance itself....rather than coming to the destination. In this way of thinking, the journey itself can take any number of twists, turns, sidesteps, backwards leaps, forward lunges. The end destination will be different based upon any of these diversions. But, that end isn't important....it what you do along the way that matters.

As for me, my own beliefs lie somewhere in the middle. I have had moments in which I've felt shivers down spine, simply understanding that no matter where I made have made enormous mistakes in my life, I'm still working the road that I'm meant to traverse. I look at the times I've chosen the easy route---with sunshine and roses, and this has led me straight into the dark, gloomy, rocky places that I've tried to avoid. On the other hand, I've seen what small, random chance can do to changing how I feel about my place in the world. I can see how unimportant goals I'd set for myself years ago are now. I can see how serendipity has played a role in my own path changes; I was at a dinner party, 12 years ago, when a girlfriend asked me to please join her in going to a yoga class the next day. I couldn't imagine doing yoga. I was more of an aerobics junkie at the time. But I chose to join my friend, Tammie in a class that would change the direction of my life. I fell in love with yoga, and ultimately went through yoga instructor training. Tammie went back to running marathons. What wasn't even a blip on Tammie's radar of her life journey, turned mine upside down in a wonderful way. It's difficult for me to imagine my ending up on the same path, without the consequence following a small change of plan.

As I stand at yet another crossroads, looking down the wide, but dark, road of having both of my children out of the house, I can't help but wonder about the future. I worry about all the actions I've taken up to this point. I have anxiety about if the choices I've made, and the curve balls life has thrown, have prepared me for the next turn up ahead. I debate endlessly if there are parts of my life I should have done differently. I know, however, that none of this internal conflict is going to make a difference in the way the future unfolds. I don't have a sign post that says "Empty nest: Left 4 miles" or "Next career: Right 26 miles". I can't plunk myself down in a fork in the road and try to peek out into the future. I can't climb a hill and then decide which looks like the most fortuitous route. I just have to pick a path and get onto it...with my whole heart.

Rock, paper, scissors, anyone?

The Present Moment

Present-moment living, getting in touch with your now, is at the heart of effective living. When you think about it, there really is no other moment you can live. Now is all there is, and the future is just another present moment to live when it arrives. One thing is certain, you cannot live it until it does appear. ~ Wayne Dwyer

One of the areas in Yoga that has long been my struggle is the essence of remaining in the Present Moment. A lifelong daydreamer, I've always managed to drift off, thinking of the next place I'd like to be, something I'd rather be doing or even just imagining other possibilities that could be happening, when the next step of journey arrives. This is not the say I'm dissatisfied with my life. Quite the contrary...I count my blessings daily. And yet, I grapple with keeping my heart, my mind and my spirit grounded in the here and now...and to be fully present in this very moment, in this very time. The irony is that I've always imagined the next step: when I was little, I wanted to be big, before I was married, I couldn't wait to set up my home. Before I had children, I couldn't wait to have a baby. When my babies were little, I imagined their being bigger and more independent. Always, I had in my mind what was coming 'next'....rarely, what was here in this very time. I would tackle a stack of dishes in the sink, and think about how incredible life would be when "X, Y, Z" were to happen. As my hands would root around in the warm, sudsy water, I wouldn't think about what I needed to be happy. I truly have felt joy and contentment. And yet, there was the part of me always waiting to turn the page, and begin the next chapter.

Needless to say, patience has long been my biggest stumbling block in my spiritual quest. St. Paul wrote that the fruits of the Spirit are, "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control." (Galatians 5:22). The Talmud extols "patience as the essence of a faithful man". Buddhism believes that patience is one of the "perfections" that one must achieve to attain enlightenment. I believe in all of these principles. I am devout in my love, my joy and utter gratitude for the life I have been blessed with. For every day that I have been graced with living, I feel a sense of profound awe and thankfulness. So, why do I struggle so with the concept of remaining grounded in the present moment? Why do I want to rush down the stairs, rip the paper open the metaphorical red and green packages, and tear into the Christmas gifts of life, like a wild 5 year old? Why can't I seem to sit at the top of the stairs....gazing with peace upon the scene below, and take the moment fully in, before rushing headlong into the future?

Living in the present moment, grounded fully in who we are, and in where we are, has been a challenge for many people for all of recorded time. Even Mother Theresa, whose life of utter selflessness, I admire deeply, reported periods of impatience, exhaustion and feeling spiritually tapped out. She looked for a time in which there would be no more poor to have such need, and for herself to have infinite strength to deal with all those who need her. Towards the end of her life she wrote, "All things pass... Patience attains all it strives for." The meaning? Keep on doing what you're doing: do good work, love those around you, remain focused on the tasks at hand. Patience isn't a place we arrive at, as a destination. Patience, itself, is a journey...and achieving it is a byproduct of living moment by moment.

Living in the present moment is not something new to our current age of fast-paced technology and instant gratification. What I will admit is that it's tougher than ever to remain grounded in living our lives as they come. When we're bombarded with advertisements, television shows and magazines, we wonder if we're missing something by not looking ahead more than we do. We wonder if our futures really be brighter if we only plan to move to a different place....a different home. We wonder if life will pass us by in not planning better.....or rather, by not planning to live a certain way, in a certain place. Plans aren't a bad thing: they help us pay our bills on time, arrive to attend meetings, do our jobs, parent our children well and remain involved in our communitities. Plans keep us focused on where we need to be right now. The problem with plans is that we can look too far ahead with them....and in doing so, lose sight of the moment we're living in. We can miss the joy of a summer night by thinking about plans to get the house ready for winter. We can let our children's babyhoods slip through fingers as we worry about where they will go to college. We can miss the touch of our spouse holding our hand on a Sunday evening, because we're mentally calculating all the crises that await us in the week ahead.

The wonderful Buddhist monk, Thich Naht Hahn, wrote a beautiful book on remaining in the present moment: "Peace is Every Step", about living in mindfulness everyday. One of the meditations he describes is very simple. As one sits in a peaceful position, or goes for a gentle walk, one repeats to herself:

• As I breathe in, I calm my body and mind.
• As I breathe out, I smile.
• Sitting (or walking), I am grounded in the Present moment.
• I know it is a wonderful moment.

As simple as this meditation sounds, it's surpringly effective. When I find myself thinking about "What? Where? When? HOW?!" for the next phase of my life, I realize that the next phase will come soon enough. I will have ample time, ample opportunity and ample ability to deal with all the blessings and challenges that lie ahead. What I will not have is the blessing of a moment I let slip away, by worrying, or even daydreaming, about what's still to come. The phrase "Carpe Diem" (or Seize the day!) made so popular in the wonderful Robin Williams film, "The Dead Poet's Society", is quite true. Today is a day that will never come again. What will you make of it? Will you enjoy it? Will you conquer the day's tasks, or will you ignore them, too focused on next year's burdens? Remember to always be the author of your day. For good or bad, for better or wose, and even for richer or for poorer, today is the moment to live in...so make certain that you appreciate it for all its worth, and live fully in the experiences as they arise.