The day after my scary colonoscopy, I took my kids to their evening swim class.
My mind was wandering well beyond the present moment.
I used my imagination to go into an unknown future, 20 years out – and painted it with all kinds of macabre. I envisioned my kids growing up without me. Could I come back from the afterlife, in some form, to guide them? How would I communicate? Would my kids be okay?
There are no guarantees. May we all live to 120 years – there are no guarantees that – alive or not – we are going to get the results we want, leave the legacy we want, have the influence we want.
Anyhow all these thoughts were chasing me as I stared blankly at the swimming pool.
Then one of those self-help books from yesteryear propped up. “Where are you? Bring your focus to the present”.
And there I was. There she was. A little kid, my daughter, being guided on how to swim. Chaotic-controlled hand-and-arm splashes, learning to navigate and propel in the water. Splashes of water, half way up to the ceiling, drops reflecting sunlight of the setting sun.
The more I looked around that amazingly humid and overheated swim pool the richer I got in the present.
Mindfulness. Who would have thought it could be so rewarding and soothing.