The Art of the Present Moment

Living in the present moment has been on my mind a lot lately. According to many popular experts on the Law of Attraction and metaphysics, the present moment is the realm of infinite possibilities, the realm of miracles. Living in the present moment has many benefits, such as increased effectiveness, increased relaxation, increased awareness, greater ease in shedding outmoded belief systems that no longer serve one’s best interests. 

To live in the present is to go with the flow and to trust in the process, whatever that process may be. That hasn’t always been an easy thing for me. Even though I can intellectually grasp the principle, actually living it has been elusive. And it remained elusive, even after my daughter, whom I would have never suspected of something like this, embraced living in the present. According to her, she realized that everything she tried before wasn’t working, so she decided to try something completely different. And when she experienced the peace that came with living in the present, she was sold on the idea.

If my kid could do it, why couldn’t I? But the big question was “how?” How do I go from stopping worrying about what the future could bring, especially with my finances being in such a state that even a moderate unexpected expense could totally wipe me out, to going with the flow? I didn’t like living on the edge. But I had no idea on how to go with the flow and live in the present, in the realm of infinite possibilities.

It was Thursday morning — my “Monday” — and I woke up at 5:00 AM, one and a half hours before my alarm was set to go off. The first thing to cross my mind was that I still have that temporary power supply cable running from the transformer box in my yard to the neighbors’ house. A permanent cable was supposed to have already been laid down at the end of last month. My mind began to churn, wondering when this was going to happen. Would this happen while I was at work? I had already told my neighbors that I need at least 24 hours notice because I would need to make sure that the dogs were secured inside before leaving for work. And what sort of pet accidents and mischief would I come home to with the dogs having had no access to the outside for twelve and a half hours? Would my fence even be standing?

If I wasn’t worrying about dogs messing in the house and not being able to go to the bathroom outside because of work being done in my yard, I was worrying about the scary state of my finances. Believe me, they are really scary right now, and barring the advent of a major miracle, it will be at least nine more months before I could let go of my breath.

Frankly, having this sort of constant intrusion was getting to be a rather tiresome game, literally speaking, as I was not getting the proper rest I needed for work. Of course, that led to more worrying as to whether I was going to be rested enough to perform my job safely, or if I would have to make a choice between going to work and risking having something terrible happen or risk getting suspended for calling in sick for the third time in less than two months.

Something had to give. I could not go on living that way, because that would be a sure guarantee that things weren’t going to change for the better and I was going to remain stuck in this constant butt-busting mode. And how long would I be able to sustain my energy before my body decided that it had enough?

It was later that morning, while operating my train on its first trip that epiphany came like a lightning bolt. 

Getting possessed by the creative process is living in the present moment!

So yeah, living in the present was not as alien a concept as I thought it was. And this piece of artwork — my embroidered illustration that I’ve named “Saint Sally Exorcising the Furnace Demons” — was proof that I do indeed know how to live in the present.

When I first came up with the concept for this embroidered illustration, I had no idea how I was going to proceed. So I just took one small section at a time, first starting with Saint Sally’s (my mother’s) hair. It took me three nights to work that tiny patch of fabric as I was using only single strand embroidery floss in multiple colors, laying down each tiny stitch like a brushstroke. After I finished the hair, I had to decide on what else to work on. And I saw how easy it could be to become paralyzed with indecision and not knowing what direction to take. But something told me to just start working anywhere -- anywhere -- and that as I worked, the piece would start letting me know what needed to be done next. And that was exactly what happened.

I completely threw my trust into the creative process. And the creative process did not fail me. Every step along the way, my work in progress whispered to me. It guided me. It taught me. It gave me answers to questions I had, and even questions I did not know I had. Not only did it show me how to execute the piece I was working on, it taught me things about myself and about the world around me.

That’s not to say that the process was easy. In fact there were parts that were downright agonizing and frustrating, just like real life. There were times when I had to constantly rip out stitches, time and time again, because certain areas did not look right and that not correcting them would have thrown off the whole foundation of the piece.

And just like real life, there was a moment when I was thrown into a major panic when a rip in a weakened section of fabric threatened to undermine all of the several month's worth of effort I had already put in. When I say that I was in a panic, I was not kidding. I actually experienced an extremely strong sickening dread -- pretty much a similar dread when my finances are in a very precarious state.

But you know what?

My piece whispered to me. It told me what to do and how to repair the damaged area so that the fabric was properly reinforced. Not only that, the repaired area was not even visible!

It took me five years to complete this project, and that was mainly because it was a traveling project that was only worked on during family holidays, sitting in doctors' waiting rooms, and during the long interludes at jury duty. All that time this piece was a constant and faithful friend who was always there for me. There were times when it felt that I was not the one creating this piece -- that I was merely serving as a conduit through which a creative energy outside of me flowed through my body. It was as though I was channeling something from a Source much greater than myself.

So now the trick will be to take what I have experienced while possessed by the creative process and translate it into my everyday life. The creative process is not just intended for the creation of art. Rather it is intended for every facet and aspect of life, for living life in itself is an art.