Presence

Not in nature, in the stillness of the woods. Not while at the oceanside cottage I’ve visited in Maine. Not in meditation.

Today I experienced presence, real presence, while folding laundry. It may not have happened had I not had the thought to stop and fold the clothes sitting in a basket on top of the ottoman. The thought was this: If I fold the clothes right now, no one will have to do it tonight. The task will be done, and it will be a shared, small luxury. It means being able to sit together longer. It means being able to play a game or read. It means having time to write.

Then, while folding a shirt, it happened. I was present. I’m fairly certain–in fact, I know–that I have never actually, really and truly been present. But for a few seconds, I was there, in my body, acknowledging with my whole being that I was folding clothes, that folding clothes was the task before me. And at that moment, I had no other thought. For an instant, I experienced being in time. The experience of real being is not thinking about what happened yesterday or what will happen tomorrow. It is not thinking about the bills that I have to pay, the arrangements I have to make to see the dentist, or having to stop to pick up yogurt at the grocery store. Real being in the world is not having any thought, but rather, having conscious awareness that you are precisely where you are meant to be, and that whatever that is occurring at that second is what is meant to happen in the world.

I never realized laundry could have so much meaning, or that I could have such gratitude for it.