
Day 261: When You Chop, Just Chop
There are clues that let us know we're not in the present moment.
One that I've always found interesting is people who wake up wanting to know what is for dinner.
They've skipped over their entire day before the day even starts by focusing some of their earliest waking thoughts on something that isn't happening for 8-12 hours.
And they do that every day.
It's like a bright shiny object distracting them from what is right in front of them, who knows how often during the day, preventing them from being present, each time they think about dinner.
And while preparing your dinner, if you're chopping vegetables, stay focused on the chopping, the present moment. If your thoughts drift to imagining yourself or someone else eating it, or thinking about the clean-up that comes later, you're wasting the feeling and enjoyment you receive from being in the present moment.
When you chop, just chop. Be aware of the weight of the knife, its movement. Hear the sounds of the crunching of the veggies as the knife goes through them. See the moisture coming out of the smaller pieces of the vegetables. Notice what they smell like now that they're open.
That isn't a lengthy process. It happens in a millisecond naturally as you stay int he present moment. You naturally notice, hear, see, and smell all the things that are ignored when your thoughts are in the future or the past.
There are times when everyone is in the present moment, even if they don't happen often.
It's when you are so into what you're doing that you don't notice what else is going on around you. Not because you're distracted, like being on your phone. Because you're completely focused and present to the task at hand.
It could be when you do your favorite craft, or gardening, or doing your work.
For me, when I'm focused on the work I'm doing, I don't hear anything else. The dogs could be barking, someone could be calling my name, and it's as if I'm in an altered state. I'm vaguely aware things are going on, but I am fully involved in what I'm doing.
That's what happens when you do something you really love and you feel like the time just flew by, or the opposite, time stretches and you feel like time stood still.
This is being 'in the zone'. It's simply being present.
We tend to think presence has to be quiet and still, but sometimes presence is complete absorption in what we're doing.
A few years ago I started reading fiction, which I hadn't done since high school. I've always been a big reader, but of non-fiction.
And then I heard Jim Kwik discussing the merits of fiction, and I asked my sister to point me in the direction of starting to read fiction. Now I read 100+ books a year, a great deal of those are fiction.
When I read a good book, I leave where I am and get fully immersed into the world I'm reading about. It's almost meditative in the way I'm so present and focused. And when I end my session, I feel the restful energy of meditation.
That's what being present and focused on ordinary things can do for your day.
This goes way beyond just paying attention to what's in front of you.
That's the first step. But then you can go deeper with intention and focus that literally takes you to a deeper place.
It doesn't matter if you're chopping vegetables, walking the dog, reading a book, writing an email, pulling weeds, or washing your coffee mug.
It doesn't have to be a special spiritual moment. It can be the next thing you do, with your full attention.
The present moment is not hiding from us. We are the ones leaving it. And we can come back in the simplest possible way. By noticing what is here now.
Today's Gentle Practice
Think about one ordinary thing you do every day.
Ask yourself:
Can I give this my full attention for just one minute?
Let it be simple.
Chopping vegetables.
Drinking coffee.
Washing your hands.
Walking outside.
Reading a page of a book.
Notice what you see, hear, feel, and smell.
You don't have to make the moment special.
Just let yourself be there for it.
With you,
Lynn
Join me on Substack and read Letters from The Threshold


