“Wherever you are, be all there.”
— Jim Elliot
A few weeks ago, I had the chance to team up with UK-based charity Jeevika Trust on their team visit to Tamil Nadu.
Part of the visit was connecting with one of their local partners, Social Change and Development (SCAD), to explore new opportunities for the future. SCAD’s founder, Cletus Babu, joined us for a discussion one night, and we began by asking him how he manages to accomplish so much in a single day.
“In the morning,” Cletus told us, “I ask, what is my work today? When I pray and meditate, I ask for the power and strength to do that day’s work. If I think about tomorrow’s work, it is too much worry.”
Andrew Redpath, director of Jeevika, replied: “Yesterday and tomorrow are more about mentality than they are time. You recall yesterday, and you anticipate tomorrow. You are only truly aware of today.”
While what Andrew said was profound in its own right, what struck me even more was how in line it was with something I’ve been struggling with here in India:
Staying present in my life, and living only in today.
Nowhere was this more difficult than in the state of Orissa back in October.
I’d spent the week with another team from Jeevika, but arrived at the beachside village of Puri the following weekend with absolutely no agenda.
I’ll spare you the details, but one night at dinner I filled a whole page of my journal with that charming endless cycle of frustration, self-loathing, and existential crises. You know the drill—what am I doing, why am I here, where is this all leading, etc, etc, etcetera.
I started to question staying in India for so long after the Rickshaw Run. Would I have been better off just going back to London, where I could continue making connections, keep writing, and maybe find an agent?
I’d reached the end of the page when something made me turn to the right. It was then that I noticed for the first time a set of murals painted on the restaurant’s garden wall. As it was night and the garden poorly lit, it was difficult to make out the pictures, but the message beneath one painting was all too clear. As I laughed to myself at how eerily spot on it was, I instantly closed my journal and promised to cut my thoughts off for the night.
The next morning, I went back and took a photograph, still unable to believe what it said:
It seems I still haven’t learned my lesson, though.
Last week I spent Thanksgiving night in a hotel in Trincomalee, Sri Lanka, paying an embarrassing amount for chicken cordon bleu–for both a taste of home (chicken’s kinda close to turkey, right?) and for the hotel’s free wifi so I could get on Skype (oh, the things we’ll do for family).
But as we were talking a startling realization hit me: I will be home in three weeks. It felt dangerously close, an incredibly tangible amount of time. Three weeks.
That’s twenty-one days and then it’s home for a month and then London, where I’ve got a job waiting and a travel blogging scene to connect back into and friends to catch up with…And as the next few months started slipping through my fingers like quicksilver, as I hung up with my family and found myself on Gumtree (UK version of Craig’s List) checking out flats available in January, I suddenly threw on the brakes and said:
You’re in Sri Lanka, and you’re on Gumtree. Seriously?
While it was easy to turn my laptop off, it took a bit longer to disconnect from thinking about the future. I was disappointed in myself at first, thinking I hadn’t come so far from Puri after all. But then I had a thought:
That unlike a trip to the dentist, which maybe happens once a year—or every six months if you’re really on top of things—maybe staying present is more like belonging to a weight loss program (work with me here…). The kind of program where you have to weigh in every week and check up on your progress. The kind of thing you have to be vigilant about, and almost fight for, in the constant stream of regrets, memories, dreams and fears that is life.
So as three weeks swiftly become two until I’m home, this is partly a confession—that I’m not always “all there” wherever I am—but also partly an encouraging push to all of us to celebrate the moment.
To stay present in our life; to be here now.
Brilliant! Hmmm ok, I just had my ‘puri’ moment now reading this article… Thank you!
I love that specific emotions/experiences become linked to certain places. I think about that all the time…Varanasi conversations, Jaipur disappointments, Jodphur omelettes, etc 🙂 Thanks!
and jaisalmer lunches 🙂
But of course!
Staying present is one of my most difficult tasks, and i must say that I do not accomplish it often. I like that in my yoga classes, the teacher validates us by saying that it’s normal for thoughts to come into our minds, but to acknowledge them and then send them away.
we live this transitory life – separate from those who are grounded and surrounding ourselves with others who are living dreams without a base (aka expats). the existential crisis seems to be quite normal – you just have to do what you’re doing and get on with it, as you are.
“Dreams without a base”…that’s beautiful, Jen! I love the way you put that. I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who finds staying present isn’t always easy…I think especially when you love to travel, it’s tempting to live in a constant state of planning new trips and anticipating the next stage, without really taking the time to live where we are right now. Can’t wait to catch up soon! PS – I’m thinking I might have to tag along to one of your yoga classes in the new year 🙂