The Present

The whole, you know, in the moment thing.

It just keeps grabbing me by the throat.

Bear with me. I know it's all woo-woo white westerner getting jiggy with the eastern philosophy trynta be hip-hop freshy fresh and totally P period C.

But there's some merit in it, once you get past being a Capital-NOT PoS'r CyNiC.

I keep having these experiences where I just take a deep breath and get totally focused. This moment. Right here.

It's usually, you know, when I'm dealing with one of the day's ten thousand tedious little challenges. The minutiae that insidiously eats away at the very soul, the very core, the very life. Crap. This student is being oppositional. This parent is in denial. This colleague thinks she's not just A Diva but THE Diva From Venus who just landed on Planet Elementary School with her Multitudinous Gifts to Proffer and You, Little Peon, She Just Can't Be Bothered With At The Present Mo'.

And then I breathe. And I roll my shoulders. And Don't Take It Personally. And suddenly I'm there. Relaxed. Present. Cool as the proverbial cucumber. Cooler. As lettuce in February. As a sip of Cabernet Sauvignon sliding down your throat. As the breeze gracing your arm hairs on a bike ride in March when the cherry blossoms have just started to pop.

The thing about the moment - the present - THIS RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW - is this. When you feel it, I mean, really FEEL it, and you're there, you take everyone else who's in the room right along with you. They don't even know it's happening, but you can see it on their faces. It's like you just slipped a little Xanax in their water bottles and this wave of peaceful good will washes over them and they don't even know what hit 'em. And what hit 'em is you.