Presence is always waiting, right where we are.
Chapter Six: Time is an abstract concept.
I remember something I learned while living in England, working twelve-hour shifts, six days a week. It was a job I enjoyed, but for a company I did not. This was before 2015, and the lesson stayed with me: time is an abstract concept, something we humans have created, and given meaning to, as a way to measure a life lived.
That realization shifted how I saw my life. I noticed I was becoming what felt like a slave to a concept my mind had given so much importance to, simply to keep me in order.
Yesterday, while singing at the market, this understanding came back to me in a new way. I realized I was already thinking ahead - singing again that evening, teaching during the week, offering again at the weekend. As beautiful as it is that my life is slowly stepping toward a musical profession again, I saw that what I thought always brought me into the present moment was quietly pulling me out of it.
I was in a loop, already at the end of the week in my mind, while standing at the very beginning of it, doing something I love. In that moment, I pulled myself back into the presence of singing. Later, I came home, and after contemplation, this chapter began to write itself.
How is it that we can become so lost even in something we love? How is it that we can lose complete presence in a moment so beautiful?
Late last year, I made a promise to myself to become more rested and relaxed. And yet, busyness has a way of creeping back in, even when life is filled with things I truly love. Rest is a fine art. There are still days when I reach the end of them completely drained, feeling as though I haven’t achieved what I needed to.
I share this because it truly takes time to become grounded, it takes great awareness to remain present, and so much courage to create change within ourselves - and to stay present with that change.
This week, I am re-evaluating my calendar again, seeing where I can make space for even deeper rest and connection.
How can I give more while doing less?
How can I create abundance while offering only what is true?
How can I serve others in a way that is authentic for both myself and them?
When to say yes, and when to say no?
This will be challenging because I have reached a point in my life where almost everything I do brings me joy. I want to do it all and show up fully. But there is only so long we can do twelve-hour shifts six days a week, only so long our mind can remain on striving to be, heal, and do more.
This is when we lose touch with the present moment- when too much is asked of a very blessed amount of time, and we forget to slow down, to care for our body, mind, and nervous system. When we forget to return to the only moment that has ever been and will ever be: the moment of now.
Singing is the one space where I feel deeply connected to this presence. This recent reflection came while I was in my element, and I don’t believe I would have heard it any other way.
It is time again to reduce, to find stillness, and to breathe into flow.
This does not mean I am not offering - it means I am finding ease in my relationship with time, allowing myself to create clear direction so I can show up fully for myself, my family, my community, and all those I serve.
I love what I do. It’s just about finding balance within myself and the direction of my path. I will always show up and serve - this is simply a part of my refinement and growth.
These words are offered as internal reflections, shared to inspire, connect, and reflect.
ॐ
