Where Are You Right Now?

**Hey there! I am now recording these blog posts in podcast form. The podcast is called Write For Joy, and you can listen by clicking here: Write For Joy Episode #1 - Where Are You Right Now?

Here’s your question for this week: “Where are you right now?” 

As I write these words, it is exactly 6:17 a.m. on Monday, March 16th, 2020. There is a lot of uncertainty in the world right now. A pandemic. School closures. Elections. In my own life, there is a great deal of personal uncertainty, too. I could easily spiral down a tunnel of fear, but instead, I’m going to ask myself--and you--this simple question: Where are you right now? For me, this place looks like my quiet living room. I am sitting in the big, beige, overstuffed armchair that I bought from a friend a few years ago. My purple bathrobe and my sheepskin slippers are keeping me warm. We’ve had one final blast of winter weather in these days right before spring begins, and there is snow on the ground. The temperature at this hour is in the single digits. I am grateful for warmth and coffee with cream in my green Goodwill mug. The cat, called Alice, sits on the back of the chair. She is quiet and patient at this hour. She seems to know that I did not sleep well last night, and she is offering the simple comfort of her company. 

In space and time, I am here, now. 

This is one way to answer the question: “Where are you right now?” It might seem a little trivial to record these kinds of simple details about your momentary existence, but here’s why this practice might be helpful: First of all, focusing on the moment is a bit like when yoga or meditation teachers ask you to focus on your breath. It brings your awareness to the fact that despite the storm you may be facing, you’re still breathing in and out. Like taking a deep breath, writing down the details of your immediate experience helps to center yourself. It’s often really hard to remember to slow down and pay attention in this way, but the practice is powerful. Sometimes in the morning, I’ll write the following affirmation in my journal: “I slow down. I take a deep breath.” Throughout my day, this little reminder is a prayer for presence. When I’m feeling the chaos encroach, I take a deep breath, and I also remind myself where this breath is coming from--that each breath we take is really a monumentally tender gift. 

I didn’t really intend to go on a tangent about breath work, but there you have it. Another thing I want to say about this question is this: When you’re sitting down to write, whether that’s with your journal or your laptop, whether you’re wanting to vent about your day or you’re trying to write the final scene in your novel, beginning where you are is like warming up a cold car in winter; things are going to run a bit more smoothly when you actually start driving. You won’t be shivering and uncomfortable because you didn’t let the heater run for a bit. Now, you might not actually be going anywhere when you write about where you are, you might just be stretching your writing muscles, to mix metaphors, but that doesn’t mean that this warm-up time isn’t important. Ease your way in. You might be surprised by what you discover.

To close, I’ll give you one more question to ponder: “Where are you in this season of your life?” That’s the question I’ll be writing more about in the next post. In the meantime, I think you should go write something. Look around you: Where are you right now? And whatever you’re feeling--sorrow or gladness--can you anchor your life in the gift this moment? I’ll try. I hope you will too.

Thanks for reading.

Beth

**Hey there! I am now recording these blog posts in podcast form. The podcast is called Write For Joy, and you can listen by clicking here: Write For Joy Episode #1 - Where Are You Right Now?