What if being here doesn't actually mean I have to DO anything?
I sit on the floor with my kids. The big one is putting a pot in her toy oven and prattling away; the little one is stirring in an upside down early shaker with a spatula. She hands me a teacup and says "drink! Drink!" I drink.
I am not in charge. I am not in control. I am not doing anything.
I'm more here than I have been in a long time.
And in my head, in my writing, in every aspect of my life, what would happen if I stopped doing, stopped looking ahead, stored trying to get somewhere and was just here?