Living in the moment, where the ‘gifts’ are

MAXINE COHEN

You know about going from what came before to what’s coming next

without stopping in the middle, don’t you?

I do, or at least I thought I did. Sometimes I remember better

than other times and avoid the trap. Sometimes I remember and get

sucked in anyway.

Here’s what happened.

I was home one morning in early May, getting my stuff done, when

the phone rang. It was the son of an old boyfriend of mine calling to

tell me that his dad had had a heart attack.

I was shocked. He’s my age. Way, way too young for that!

I was concerned for him. This was a special boyfriend, and even

though we are not together, I hold him in a special place in my

heart.

I called the hospital. He was in the intensive care unit. Not a

good sign.

I called my daughters. He had been a part of their lives too,

especially Sherri’s, and I wanted them to know, just in case.

Well, the long and the short of it is that he came through with

flying colors. No damage to the heart muscle itself; just a few

alterations to his diet and personal habits, and he should be fine.

He’d been under a lot of stress, and that -- the doctors determined

-- was the cause rather than anything physiological. Good news.

Two weeks later, Sherri showed up with a funny card for him. It

was her version of “I heard and hope you’re doing fine” -- at one

level. At another level, it was her way of wanting to make contact

with him after so many years. She didn’t know his address and had to

ask me for it, which is why, I think, she showed me the card in the

first place. Otherwise, I think she would have kept it to herself.

This boyfriend was an adored father figure, and for her to reinitiate

contact and want something back from him after all this time, was

taking a big risk.

I looked around for his address and finally found it in a daily

planner from many years ago that I’d saved. I gave it to her.

I knew he wouldn’t receive the card until nearly two weeks later

(too lengthy to go into how), and I knew Sherri didn’t know this, but

I didn’t want to meddle, so I said nothing. At least not to her.

In the meantime, I kept running scenario after scenario in my head

about how this would go down. You see, I knew I’d know because he

didn’t have her phone number, and it’s not in information, so he’d

have to get it from me.

I was obsessing. It was all I could think about. I wanted this to

go perfectly for her. I wanted him to call her as soon as he got the

card, just like I knew she wanted. I wasn’t at all he sure he would

do this (again, too lengthy to go into why), so I kept going over and

over how I would handle it and what I would say if she didn’t hear

from him right away.

I was driving myself crazy.

So, I did what I do in these circumstances. I wrote down what was

going round and round in my head. When I got it down on paper, I

couldn’t believe my eyes. There were only two scenarios. Scenario No.

1: He’d call right away when he received the card. Scenario no. 2:

He’d get the card and take his sweet time to call her. In the latter

case, I’d have to figure out how to handle it. Simple, right? Not

hardly as it turned out.

I spoke to him soon after I thought he’d received it. I said

something like, “Wasn’t that a cute card Sherri sent you, and wasn’t

that so sweet of her?”

“What card?”

“What do you mean ‘what card’?”

“I didn’t get a card from Sherri.”

“How could that be? She asked me for your address, and I managed

to find it in an old daily planner, so I know she sent it.”

“You mean you didn’t remember my address?” he said, feigning

insult as he recited his address to make sure I’d know. “Really

though, I’ll look through the mail again more carefully when I get

home.”

Something in what he said caught my attention, but it wasn’t until

two days later that it dawned on me: I’d given Sherri the wrong

address! I dug through a bunch of other things until I found it

again, and there it was, just as he’d said, 7500 Skyway Drive. I’d

transcribed it wrong in my daily planner and told her “3500.”

OK, scenario No. 3. Wholly unforeseen. I never thought he wouldn’t

receive the card.

I felt terrible. I called Sherri to let her know what had

happened. I called him to tell him, too, and gave him her phone

number.

Twenty minutes later, it dawned on me that I had transposed two

numbers and given him the wrong phone number.

Scenario No 4.

I called back again and left Sherri’s correct phone number on his

voice mail.

Now, you might think, and I’ve been mulling this over myself, that

something else was going on -- and with me! Almost as if

unconsciously I didn’t want them to get together. How could I when I

kept botching this? But nothing could be further from the truth. They

were honest mistakes on my part. Why would I even have his address

around after all these years? And the phone number mix-up I fixed

right away.

My heart hurt terribly that this didn’t go perfectly for Sherri

and that she didn’t get to feel received and valued and appreciated

by him.

But this brings me back to my original point. Never did I

anticipate in all my obsessing that this is the way in which events

would evolve. Never did I anticipate that he wouldn’t receive the

card. And so all that going over and over how I would handle it if he

didn’t call right away was useless and wasted mental energy. Had I

just remained in the now, in this very moment, I would have handled

each event as it occurred. It would have been just fine. Certainly no

worse. Nothing I anticipated happened like I’d imagined it would

anyway.

So, here’s the essential point. There’s only the past, the

present, and the future. The past is over and done. To dwell in the

injuries of the past and rework them ad nauseam is a futile exercise

that goes nowhere. The past is valuable, sure, but what is valuable

about it is working on understanding how we reenact our early

patterns learned in our family of origin, in our current

relationships with our spouse/children/partner.

The future is not yet, but it is fantasized about in two

varieties. Either people tell themselves that they’ll start living

the life they want when they have lost weight, gotten a new job, the

children are older, you fill in the blank. Or they worry about all

the bad things that might happen and run scenarios about how to

handle them. I call this rehearsal. It’s not the real deal; it’s not

real life. It’s a figment of our imagination imbued with energy that

keeps us occupied and worried. When we jump into the future and

imagine what might be, it usually turns out to be very different than

what is. Duh, no kidding.

The only thing that’s real is the present. Right now. What is

happening in this very moment. And in this moment in time, life is

lived. Real life. Your life. It is the only thing that is real. Not

the future. Not the past. There is no obsessing and worrying if you

are wholly present in the moment. So check it out. Look down at your

feet when you’re upset and ask yourself, “How am I right now in this

very moment?” Usually the answer is, “Just fine.”

So, it’s no wonder that the present is called the present because

it is truly a gift. The gift of your life.

* MAXINE COHEN is a Corona del Mar resident and marriage and

family therapist practicing in Newport Beach.