What would life be like if you loved every moment in front of you? I read that question yesterday, and it is a useful reframe. It cuts out everything that is non-essential. You don’t come to the moment wishing it were anything but what it is. You don’t, in fact, wish that anything were different—that you were twenty pounds thinner, that you had more money, or more time, or more influence. You don’t wish for people to live longer, or come back to life, or die, or move away, or behave better. The moment is in front of you, and the only thing you have to do is love it.
Everything changes, ceaselessly, relentlessly. We get older, people we love die or fade out of our lives, we are constantly tested with new challenges, we wake up one day and Facebook looks completely different, and the iPhone X just went on sale even though when I was in college there wasn’t any such thing as a smart phone at all. But what would life be like if one thing never changed? If you always loved the moment in front of you, no matter what it contained—homework, laundry, working out, driving home stuck in traffic—or who you were—young, old, tired, sick, lonely, bored, bereaved. What if you just made that choice, and woke up to a world, and a life, pulsing with possibilities?