Every morning I quietly slip downstairs, sometimes with my 4-year-old niece in tow, and open up the large cabinets as my eyes fall directly to the middle shelf. I have seen them all before, but today is a new day with new emotions, and I desire to feel the stir of something new. I yawn as I study the cups before me, all the while assessing my current mood for the morning.
Each year my husband and I prioritize taking a vacation. Some years are more elaborate than others, but we both know it’s important to take time away from our busy work lives. The first vacation we went on, I surprised him by taking out a lengthy to-do list of all that I wanted to do on our long weekend away. He had no list; his only goal was to relax. If we followed my plan, we’d be sprinting from place to place, barely taking in wherever we were visiting before fleeing to the next spot. If we followed his, we’d spend our entire time napping in our hotel room or wandering aimlessly until we arrived to a place where we wanted to spend more time.
I often find that I am stuck in someday. In my mind I build a legacy of memories and experiences that I plan to accomplish in the future. And in doing so, I can’t help but feel that I am somehow shortchanging my now for my when – for a time that I’ve seen all the things I wanted to see … had all the conversations I wanted to have … made time for the people I promised I’d make time for. I could be wrong, but I don’t really think that living for the future is living the best way.