Being Present is a Form of Happiness

I go through phases of intense interest in and observation of the people around me.  These days, it's a deviation from normal action for me.  Typically, no matter the group I'm in, I am the de facto greeter, rememberer of names, conversation starter and overall general participater.  I wouldn't say that I seek the spotlight, and I'm not a compulsive joiner, but I've worked very hard for a long time to be able to enjoy whatever the present moment that I'm living in happens to be, and I'm interested in being a part of those moments.  In business meetings, as a result of that desire for sincerity and authenticity, when everyone else is Chest Puffing or doing the Big Boy and Girl Dance of Uber-Professional Talk, I'm often the only person asking questions of others like, "How's your family?  Your daughter must be in junior high school by now, right?  How's that going?"  In other words, I talk about life, and that always lightens the mood.

But lately I've been in a more subdued mood, probably because I'm still very physically tired and because it's February.  Gawd, I hate this month.  Gray, cold, holidays spent, taxes almost due, let's just hope that Spring gets here before June, February.  DH calls it my Speculative Mood; I have a tendency to isolate a feeling, thought, pattern of behavior and just track it, watch it, ponder it.  I learn a lot about people through this process.

I was recently at a meeting with a large group of coworkers, both those that I share office space with and several from other parts of my geographical region.  There is a young lady from another office who is, er, um, well, she's rather off-putting.  She's difficult to talk to.  She gives very little in conversation; her primary contributions seem to involve making sure that all listening understand that she's, of course, right and oh so very smart.  About everything.  It's not malicious, it's more of a low self-esteem projection that comes off as, okay, well, maybe more than a little bitchy.  A conversation with her can feel like a midnight stroll through a sanctimony-ridden land-mine field.

Having survived a lifetime in the B-I-N-G-O spinning ball of twisted conversation and pretentious aggrandizing that was my NFOO, I just shake it off.  She's not central to my continued existence - not my boss, in other words - and I have only the most tenuous of ties to her, so I just let her be right when I find myself in conversation with her, which I noticed at this last outing was quite often.  She chose at several different venues to seek out a seat next to me.  When she gets all Sister Mary Francis on the soapbox, I just listen until I'm bored and then I make a joke.  Most of the serious wanna-be professor types don't particularly care for my blase take on life in general, and tend to gravitate away from me rather quickly.  To which I say, Coolsville Daddio, you go on over there and extol the virtues of contract negotiations and quality assurance systems and I'll be over here enjoying my tea and taking mental bets against myself about which of the coworkers is going to try to hit on the waitress.  But this girl still seeks me out, after four years of contact in which I've maintained my same attitude, which when concerning business often can be summed up with a shoulder shrug and a, "Well-what-are-you-gonna-do-that's-life." or "Well-they-keep-paying-me-so-I-keep-showing-up."  That one really stumps the suits and the ladder climbers.

So, later on, I had a conversation with one of my coworkers whom I actually consider a good friend and she, too, had noticed the way that Ms. Difficult follows me around.  "I just don't understand why she likes me so much," I said.  "I'm not particularly nice to her, but she seems to really want to be around me, I don't get it."  This caused my friend to laugh, which threw me for a loop.  "What's so funny?" I asked.

To which she replied, "Vanci, everybody likes you.  You're the only one that everybody likes.  You're like everybody's best friend.  You're the only one who cares about everybody else.  You're the only real person in the room!"  Huh.

So let me get this straight.  Everybody else is acting?  I'm the only one capable of or willing to be real, to be present?  How sad!  All I can think is that there is so much, so much of value, going on in every moment - I feel like I learn something from every single interaction that I have with individuals or the world at large.  How can anyone not be interested in that?

I think that it's a gift to be able to live in the moment, to be present.  I know that I have a lot more fun at those meetings than anyone else does.  Apparently that's because I'm the only one really there!

I spent so much of my childhood, adolescence and early adulthood afraid, just terrified of what horror was lurking around the next corner.  I was always planning, and drawing up alternate plans, and making contingency plans.  Hypervigilance is a fear based, trauma induced defense mechanism, and that's where I lived for so long, just trying to keep everything under wraps, the hatches battened down, the details routinely organized, everything and everyone under control.

I don't have to do that anymore, and there's such freedom for me in just being able to - forgive the overused phrase - stop and smell the roses.  I'm so grateful that I can just be present in my life these days.

So, a Vanci-ku for you, in honor of the joy of living in the moment:

Fears of the future
Rob you of today's moments
Why steal from yourself?

Love,
Vanci