The Power of Now

One of the reasons I finally gave up smoking pot (on July 7, 1984, but who's counting?) was because I felt so pressured when I used it. I felt as if everything had to be done right now. That did not feel high or mellow. It felt horrible.

It still does, feeling rushed and pushed, and that's one thing I don't like about this culture of electronic speed. I have allowed myself to be sucked in to this stance of no waiting, of instant refunds and rebates, of self-checkout and ten-item lanes, of speed-passes for gas and tolls. If I have to wait five seconds – literally – for my computer to "warm up" or for Netflix to load, I feel ... indignant.

Yet I live in this world and am affected by it. Therefore, when my car's odometer started getting close to 200,000, I geared up for taking a picture of it – not for my own pleasure, but so I could put it on Facebook or, um, here in Nattering Chatter. At one point, I glanced down to see that I was a mere six miles from all those zeros.

And then I got to my destination and all was forgotten and, as you can see by the above photo, life went on. And on.

So last night, when I saw this Christmas light still up, I was delighted. Talk about not rushing! It feels like a secret, a hidden bauble in the knot of a tree. The Spanish moss is on both sides of the sparkling ornament, so it would be hard to see in the daytime. I love that the city workers didn't find it, and I hope it stays up there all year long. I'll be waiting – but not anxiously – to see if it does.