Where your feet are

About the present, the future and not missing what's in front of you

Today was brief, at least, I felt it this way, which is how most days have felt over the last couple of weeks. Time vanishing in front of my eyes. I don't love it, I have to admit.

I don't love this notion of feeling like I'm not doing any of the things that I have to do, which are plenty, and all the things that I want to do, which are also plenty, or even more.

The thing is, I do lots. We do loads. We're taking care of a newborn after all.

And on top of that, handling all the chores and activities that come, and are required, with such responsibility (and joy).

Reconcile

Here's the internal debate and dilemma.

I have to find a way. A way to do some of the things, or simply accept that I will be 100% dedicated to my son. Exclusively and without hesitation.

I have to reconcile the fact that although a day has 24 hours and I'm currently not working, day-to-day activities and self-imposed commitments and deadlines are currently not working the same way they used to.

It's accepting that I need to find a way to block time that will allow me to work on the things that I need to; or simply accept that they won't be done until I'm back to work in January. Which is ok, on paper. But then I also think that, if I can organise myself to do work for someone else (because I will have to when my paternity leave comes to an end), then I also can, and should, prioritise the things that I have to do.

There is this part of me that says, "Fuck it. Don't do anything else and enjoy this moment that will never come back." It's also priceless and beautiful, especially when he smiles at you. And, at times, I even feel like I just want to do that: be a dad every second of the day. But then things happen, or I simply remember that there is a life out there that we are yet to build: things I want to do, but also things that I have to do to make that future happen. It's reconciling those two worlds, those two versions of myself, and not dwelling. If you dwell, you lose.

Present

Somewhere out there, I read this line, and I constantly remind myself of it: "Make sure that your mind is where your feet are".

This is the best definition of being present that I have ever read. And dwelling is the complete opposite of that.

If I'm with my son, be with him. If I'm working, then work. But it's in those gaps, the gaps between the two. The doing one thing but thinking about the other. Being with the baby, while at the same time, not just thinking about the things that I have to do, but actually being there, going there, working on them, while my body remains there with my son. This can happen. This has happened. And if I'm doing that, I'm lost.

Because what's the point?

What's the point of chasing all the things I have to do, the better future, the bigger house, more comfort for all of us, if I'm missing him while he's in my arms? Him looking at me, sleeping, smiling, while I'm somewhere else, thinking about what needs doing.

What's the point of building a future if I'm the only one there? Not because they left me, but because I went ahead without them. My mind went there while my feet stayed here.

Right now, the beauty is that I can be with him all the time. What a treasure. And I have the fortune of a few more months of it, so I want to enjoy it to the max. But I also know that I need to make the time and space, so I can build the foundations for the life I want for us. So it comes down to making the most of the time I can get, no matter how little. When I work, I work. When I'm with him, I'm with him. My mind stays in one place.

Because there will always be things to do, and I can't think of anything worse than missing the life that I have for the one that I'm yet to have.