For years and years I did the next thing–usually very happily. But it took writing to make me present in the moment.
In #116 I wrote, This minute, I’m doing the next thing. And that was, in fact, what I had been aware of before I sat down in the spa.
But the sentence wasn’t true because at that minute, I was present. I was smelling eucalyptus, listening to the Serbian band, and enjoying the feeling of the warm water on my feet. I was in the moment and then I wrote the post about those few minutes.