What if presence is quite boring

Lessons I am learning from a visit to the hospital and many moments of pain.

Welcome dear reader,

The past few weeks have kicked me around.

How are you feeling? How does your body feeling? Is it whispering any wisdom to you? Are you listening?

Feel your answers and give yourself the gift of your presence as you read.

I spent a few hours of last Friday night in the hospital. Illness ravaged our house after a beautiful 5 day camping trip in the mountains. I was hit with the worst of it, I thought I was feeling better, but I took a turn for the worst at the end of the week. I thought I threw out my back, I thought I was passing out from the pain, but it turned out to be a virus which as left me with a slow recovery and immense brain fog.

And yet, going to the hospital woke me up.

I became aware on our camping trip on how my need to control things was fueling my anxiety. I became aware of how much I craved a slow life, but often found myself rushing from thing to thing ignoring my body’s needs. I became aware of how I long to be more present but I much rather jump into the future than tolerate this moment and all it has to offer me.

As our trip came to a close, I started to ponder how I could shift my life to align with my new awareness. Turns out, I needed to learn a lesson about trying to plan ahead because the Universe forced me to surrender to what is with this bout of illness.

I did not make a plan, but I was forced into the present moment. I was forced to be in the experience I was having. As I laid on the couch, experiencing the most intense pain of my life (I did get an epidural at during my son’s labor, so feel free to judge what this means, regardless this was worse, this was pain without purpose), I learned how to surrender. If I tried to move through the convulsions of pain, it made it worse, all I could was let the spasms move through me.

As I recover, I have only been able to be here. The brain fog has left me with little ability to forward think or even write (writing this to you and feeling it is coherent, is a huge step). As I spent all weekend on the couch, there was no way to run from myself or my life. Everything that was not immediate had to wait.

This experience was a masterclass in being here, in the moment, letting go of control, and living the perspective shifts I had during our camping trip.

What I have learned is presence is everything, and it is also quite boring.

Charlotte Joko Beck talks about this in her teachings, how we think coming into the present moment is exciting and fulfilling. When in reality, it is much more quiet and grounded than we imagine. Life where we are jumping to the future or the past is more stimulating and exciting than a life lived in the present.

Yes, when we live more in the moment, we can experience more, our senses come alive, we can be with what is. And yet often being with what is is not the kind of ah-ha, magic moment we thought it would be. It is quite simple, maybe even boring. Because it is devoid of the human drama of trying to control or trying to protect ourselves from life in some way.

When we are present fully, we aren’t blocked, we aren’t protecting life from touching us.

I had moments of this when I was in the hospital. I am a shy, socially awkward human, but when I entered the hospital, unable to move my body, in a complete state of surrender and presence, I talked to each person who helped care for me. I asked them questions about what they were doing, about their lives, I cracked jokes.

My heart felt open because there was no where else I could be but with the pain.

This is something I have been craving…less defensiveness, less fear of connecting with others, and more open heartedness.

What if the things we are desiring more of are on the other side of immense surrender?

What if what keeps us from being present are our stories, our fears, our expectations?

What if when those are removed, there is presence…boring, quiet presence.

These experiences of presence have been quite uneventful. I do feel more grounded in my life, and I do have thoughts about missing things being more fast paced, exciting, and the anxiety I would work myself into. Those qualities are connected to feeling productive and important.

But in the past two weeks, I have done little to be productive or important. I have had to scale way back. I have had to be honest with myself, with my people. I have had to admit to myself how much I was striving to be productive.

What if my wounds are not the most interesting thing about me?

What if I stop leading with them?

What if I listen to my heart and follow her guidance?

What would life look like then?

These are questions I have been asking myself as I drop into this level of presence.

What if the things I have thought were the most important things in my life aren’t? Like what I do for a living? Or what my house looks like?

I feel ashamed to admit, I did not know how much I was clinging to these stories or beliefs I was exposed to as a child. They were running my life. I thought I needed to lead with my education, but I really I want to lead with my heart. I thought I needed to have a perfect house, but I really want to let the dishes sit until my heart work is done.

I find it hard to write about this experience of illness without turning out some cliches. I wrote a first draft of this deep in the fog and it was something about how life is short.

We know this, illness or tragedy can bring this back into perspective. But what if we think life is long? What if we think each day matters and have more intention around how we fill these days?

For the love of all things holy, can I stop prioritizing the cleanliness of my house and just be? With my kid, with myself, with my writing, even with my job when it needs me.

Can I let myself be here? In this moment, even if it is quiet and boring.

Can I let my heart lead?

Can you?

What if the things you spend so much energy protecting yourself from, are not out to get you?

What if the things you spend so much time trying to keep up with are weighing you down?

What if there is no problem to be solved?

What if this moment, this life, this season is perfect and whole as it is?

What if you could let yourself take a deep breath and remember this as the truth of life, of your existence, of your being?

What if you are already whole? What if you stop striving?

What then? I am open to finding out.

Love,

Emma

Welcome, this is Being in Motherhood. I am Emma…mother, writer, artist, and space holder. I am a lover of slow living, deeply connecting to the earth, and allowing space to feel what’s present. I explore being in relationship with ourselves as we navigate motherhood through a trauma-informed and mindfulness lens.

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