Today is all that exists; Walk it well
Most of us have heard that we should live “one day at a time” because all we really have is today. I was certainly familiar with this idea, but had never actually lived it until walking the Camino. It’s a mind bending concept really, this notion that all that really exists is the present. Even more amazing is my fresh awareness that I have, within me, everything I need to "walk today well".
I’ve been home from Spain for a couple of months now. I’ve been trying my best not to slip back into some of my “pre-camino” ways, but nevertheless, this morning I woke up feeling anxious. That’s been a familiar feeling in the past, but it's the first time I’ve experienced it since leaving Santiago. As I examine my fear I can see that it honestly has nothing to do with the reality of today; I actually have a nice day ahead of me. No, this anxiety seems related to how I am suddenly imagining that I might feel tomorrow, and next week, or even six weeks from now.
I know what triggered this: I had just made the decision yesterday that I would slow down and “stay still” for longer periods of time. Ever since my life radically changed twenty years ago, following my divorce, I have been “on the go” a lot. I travel often. I rotate between three states and three homes. Lately it seems I've spent time in each, not seasonally, but nearly weekly. There have been reasons for this, and these reasons even make some sense, at least they’ve made sense at times. Sometimes, I suspect, they've made no sense at all and it’s just a habit I’ve developed to out-run uncomfortable feelings. Yesterday, empowered by my experiences on The Camino, I decided that I’d experiment with slowing down and staying put for longer periods of time. I thought my decision would calm me down, instead I woke up terrified.
I think that deep down I’m afraid that if I slow down I will feel the pain of deep disconnection, disconnection from myself and from others. I think I'm afraid I'll feel lonely. Like an alcoholic that drinks, not for pleasure, but to escape the un-pleasurable, I suspect that I have stayed in near constant motion as a way of not feeling what I'm afraid it will feel like if I stand still.
On The Camino I was never terrified, in fact, I was never even mildly worried. Instead I was blissfully peaceful. This morning, remembering that total absence of anxiety I asked myself what had changed. I think my exact words to myself were: “Gosh Dana, when did you get so freaking afraid again?”
I know when: It was the exact moment I stopped living one day at a time and instead let my mind wander recklessly into the future: (And not just any future, but a made-up, scary future.) I always feel anxious when I do that! A friend calls it "dwelling in the wreckage of our futures" and we agree that it's as though we have personal boogey men that haunt tomorrow even though, in truth, he exists only in our heads today.
I didn’t take that boogey man on The Camino. With relief I found it natural to spend every day only in that very day. I've experienced the same phenomena since on long backpacking trips. It is always accompanied by a sense of complete serenity.
It was as though the future didn’t even exist, and we never once worried about what lay ahead. I think we just assumed we’d handle whatever came when we got there. Our world narrowed to the fifteen or twenty miles that faced us each day. We had no way of envisioning what lay ahead. Our fear was as narrow as our experience in the present moment because that’s all we had and all that mattered. They were some of the most blissfully relaxing moments of my life.
That isn’t to say that we weren’t affected by our yesterdays, or prepared for our tomorrows, we just had no emotion attached to either. Our feet definitely felt the consequences of the previous miles but we had no shame, guilt, or regret tied to the past, only sore feet! We took the future into account by studying the map, and weather forecast but, even in the face of looming challenges, our preparations held no dread or anxiety. Maybe it was fatigue that made us forget to worry, but it felt more like faith, as though there was no need to worry. We trusted we could handle whatever we would face in the path that lay ahead.
Now I understand, intellectually at least, that once my tomorrow becomes real, and exists as my today, I will have all I need to handle, and even enjoy, the particulars of its miles, texture, and character. In the meantime, today is all that exists and I'm called only to focus on walking its path with delight.
Reflections:
In her book, The Language of Letting Go, Melody Beattie said: “We should look back only to learn, and forward only to plan”. This radical wisdom came naturally on The Camino. Truly, the only moment that existed was the one we were walking right then. It’s not even that each of these moments were perfect, some were very painful, but each one was “do-able” and most were absolutely wonderful.
It’s only in hindsight, as I compare the agitation that started to creep back in once I returned home to the peace I felt on The Camino, that I’m understanding the torture I put myself through when I fail to stay anchored in the present. There is no reason to fear my imagined future feelings. For two weeks I lived the reality that all that exists is today. My only relevant challenge is “to walk today well”. It helps when I remind myself that my God lives only in today, and that if I let my mind travel too far forward, I go alone.
With this new awareness I have written a mantra for myself and I repeat it daily:
“You are where you need to be today.
You are who you need to be today.
You have everything you need today.
Today is all that exists;
Walk its path with delight.”
1. Do you ever struggle to stay anchored in today? Do you tend to look forward with curiosity, or with anxiety?
2. When you focus too far into the future do you ever find that your day has become colored by worry?
3. When your mind wanders too far into the past does your day ever become affected by feelings of grief, regret, resentment, or shame?
4. If you could really internalize the mantra above what tangible difference would that make in your day today?
The future felt hazy and irrelevant while walking. We trusted that we'd have all we needed by the time we got there.
We were surrounded by signs that proved the past was truly long past, like these ancient Roman roads we would stumble upon from time to time.
It was hard to fathom that Roman travel had worn these grooves through granite over 2,000 years earlier. It definitely brought our own challenges into perspective.
When we stayed in the present we were struck by a sense of abundance...Like the gift of a well-timed spring to refill our water bottles. We truly wanted for nothing.
