11 months ago

11 months ago

I found this writing yesterday that I wrote on December 8, 2018.

How much of what we do is based on our present reality? How much is based on the future? I’ve been thinking a lot about the motives behind why we do what we do.

I like to think of myself as a present person. But how much of what I’m doing in the present moment is because I’m living for the future?

My future self.

How much of what I do in the present is connected to how my future self is going to respond?

In this moment I’m sitting on the broken down couch in my Grandma’s meth house that's overcrowded with people and useless things. Not because I want to. In this present moment, this is the last place I want to be. I’m here because I’m protecting my future self. I’m protecting her from guilt. From feeling guilty for not spending enough time with my Grandma who is almost ninety years old.

In the present I walked into the garage to find Mom sitting in a haze of nicotine surrounded by faces I didn’t recognize, clutching something she didn’t want me to see in her hand.

Drugs. It’s always drugs.

Pharmaceuticals? Maybe.

Meth? Probably.

In the present I wanted to call her out on it. For hiding it, or trying to. But I didn’t do that. I ignored it and acted like I didn’t notice anything because once again I was protecting my future self. Protecting her from the potential fall out of the confrontation.

In the present I have a craving for Oreo’s. But present me doesn’t eat the Oreo’s because future me would feel sick.

In the present I am completely engulfed in reading Patti Smith’s Just Kids but it’s almost one in the morning and I need to go to bed so future me doesn’t feel like a zombie tomorrow.

When I stop to think about it, a lot of the decisions I make are tied to my future self.

Is that still being present?

I am here, right now, in this moment.

But the question still is, would this moment be happening if I wasn’t living for my future self?

A full year hasn’t gone by and yet so much has changed since I wrote this. I felt as if I walked into a portal to the past as I read through it. If only my future self could’ve told my past self not to worry so damn much. 

If only my future self could’ve told my past self that Mom would be 152 days clean today. That Grandma would live well beyond her ninetieth birthday. That I’d be marrying the love of my life in a little over a month. That I’d be wrapped up in so many beautiful projects, all of which I’m excited about.

Gentle little reminder for us all to check in with ourselves, with the burdens we carry and the worries we hold onto. Is there anything we can let go of so that present us can enjoy the right now?

wake of dust

wake of dust

the end of the before

the end of the before