Learning about Now

I got to work early today because I had to take Cristin to the Airport. The office was pretty dark when I walked in. Rob was already working, and Aimee, and Kevin were there. Sarah Linder was sitting on Sarah Miller's desk chatting very quietly, and the whole office seemed as still as the woods at dawn. I walked in, booted up my computer, stuck some gummy bears in the candy jar, and went into the break room to make myself a bowl of oatmeal. Two minutes in the nuker, and I sliced up half a banana into the goo and ate the other half. I filled up my cup with water and walked back to my desk where my computer was logged in and my chair was waiting for me to sit down to begin the work week.

I checked my emails and voicemails and made a mental list of things to do today. Print the CCDD Reports, check the Gradebook spreadsheets to see if any kids finished their classes this weekend, call the students on my OGT list...

Then I went here to talk about my life a bit. As I opened this to write, I realized that I really don't have anything to write about. All I did was come into work today. In fact, all I do every day is either come into work, hang out, or read a book. That's pretty much my life.

So I wrote about coming into the office, because that's what I did today. As I wrote, I realized what a beautiful little moment that was, coming into a dim quiet office with people quietly clacking on their keyboards or filling their mugs with coffee. I thought about the simple routine of my morning bowl of oatmeal, and I realized how unique it is. It feels like the most mundane thing in my life, but it is unique to me, and that makes it special.

I guess what I'm getting at is that my life feels mundane. And I guess that's okay. If I can look at the habitual things that I do every day, the things that have become repetitious and boring, and see those things as the genuine pleasantries that they are, I think I'll be a much happier person.

I guess when I realized that I haven't done anything very special today, I realized that the special thing about today, is that it is the only real thing I know. It doesn't matter that instead of hunting lions or base jumping in the Outback, I came into the office early this morning and made a bowl of oatmeal. See, I think the real joy of life is based in the nature of temporality. Everything is constantly new because we live in that ever changing thing called the present. And in the present we can remember yesterday, predict tomorrow, but all we ever have is now. How long is now? It is the only time for which we have no measure. It isn't a second, because that's too long. By the time you point to it, it's gone. Now. Clutch as we may, it's the only thing we can never hold onto, and yet it's the only thing we ever have. That's the neat thing about my oatmeal this morning. That I am not doing it any more. That's what makes the mundane things sublime. I guess this morning, I grew to appreciate now.