I love to travel. My wife and I spend countless hours planning trips, reminiscing about past vacations, and (occasionally) going on actual adventures. Seeing the world and being in new places revitalizes us, expands our horizons, and fills us with wonder.
But I’m slowly realizing that I don’t need to go anywhere special to feel this joy. I wrote in my journal this morning about the simple joy of my daily commute, and whether or not living in the moment is possible.
Where are you trying to go?
Is there a place you think you will stay once you arrive there?
Do you enjoy the process of “getting there,” or are you living in the ongoing disappointment of “not being there yet”?
So many times on my drive to work, I just want to stop and admire the view. I imagine how pleasant it would be to slow down, to be a passenger on a trotting horse instead of hurrying along in a car to be here, doing this.
In other words, I was already where I wanted to be, but I was too focused on where I had to go next that I could barely enjoy the “now.”
I bet a lot of my satisfaction in writing comes from more or less successfully recapturing an experience or feeling that I failed to fully appreciate in the moment. I try to strike an echo of the original thrill, which is a pale substitute for the real thing.
I often pretend that it is so hard to live in this moment — there are so many other things I’m looking forward to, or hanging on to, or wishing I was doing instead.
But, actually, living in this moment is the only option. The real confusion stems from whether you pay attention to the world around you or fixate on the one inside your head.
February 8, 2023
M. J. Lau 