Last week, I was craving writing time to write a post on “having it all” and wanting to give some back.

This morning, when I finally had a 30-minute window, I had no idea what to do with myself.  And so, I sat down to write, reminded of the fact, that, as the semester ebbs and flows, I need to remain present.

Being present and staying present are really hard for me.  I am perpetually either reliving my past or thinking about what needs to get done in the future.  In fact, my natural tendency right at this moment is to think about the grading that I will have to do in a week, and make sure that I’m fully prepared with my other teaching/ mothering/ life expectations to manage a ridiculous turnaround expectation that I created for myself.  There are always things to do.

I am not saying that planning for the future is a bad thing. It helps me to be prepared and I am more present when I am prepared and not rushing to do things at the last minute.

But, I also need to acknowledge that this type of future planning can also cause me a lot of unnecessary anxiety and prevent me from the peace of being in this moment, at my kitchen table, with a cup of tea and a space to write. In this moment, not checking my e-mail or my tweets, not texting or planning, or writing an IRB or stuck in traffic, or teaching or trying to get everyone out the door, in this moment, there is precious reflection. There is a reclamation of my time as my own.  There is strength in presence.

And I need this strength to do the work I have to do.  I need this strength to contribute, to mother, to teach.  I need this strength because there are many battles to fight for those I love, and those I do not know, but still love as humans, who are losing their rights. There are prayers to pray, words to speak, votes to cast, miles to run, dollars to give, voices to be raised, tweets to send.

There are all of these things.

But right now, there is this precious moment.

Breathe.