Lunar Eclipses and Lackluster Experiences

The most recent lunar eclipse in mid-May taught me something about my expectations and how I let them rob me of the joy of the moment.

I was able to capture some photos of the eclipse while it was in process. Unfortunately, just as it reached its peak, the haze moved in and then the clouds, so we weren’t able to see the moon glow red. We waited a little while to see if the clouds would pass, but they never did. We went to bed rather disappointed.

I’ve been busy this month dealing with dental issues and caring for a family member who has been through a serious ordeal. Tonight was the first time I was able to bring the lunar eclipse photos from my camera over to my computer where I could really look at them. If I’d been able to photograph the moon with the full eclipse and the red glow, I’m sure I would have made the time to look at the photos. But since the eclipse was less thrilling than I expected, I delayed.

As I looked at my photos tonight, I realized these are some excellent photos. It’s funny how in life we have certain expectations about what things should be or look like. When they don’t pan out the way we’d hoped, we dismiss the whole experience and move on. Or maybe we let it make us really upset or sad. We go into mourning over the missed experience. But did the experience even exist to be “missed?” It only existed in our imagination and our expectations. And yet we mourn it as if it were something tangible and real we’ve lost.

The Mind’s Addiction to the Past and the Future

I find it interesting how the human mind works. Most people’s minds are addicted to the past or the future. We spend very little effort on the only moment in which we can do or experience anything – NOW! Many spend their time looking back and mourning the past, or regretting, feeling guilty about, or rehashing the past. Or maybe they see the past as their glory days and can’t believe the future could hold anything as good as the past. Others, like myself, spend our time projecting what we want to have happen, or pre-emptively strategizing about what we don’t want to have happen in the future. I spend a great deal of time solving problems that could happen in the future.

Whether we’re analyzing the past or the future, it’s largely a waste of time. The only moment we can really live in is the current moment. Most of the things I worry about never even happen. And when things don’t turn out as I wanted them to, I often move right along like I did with this eclipse situation and completely miss the nuggets of good laced within the experience.

I wanted the eclipse to look one way. When it didn’t, I tossed the whole thing aside. How many really cool experiences have I dismissed or never fully rejoiced in or celebrated because things didn’t look like some ideal I had in my mind?

Uncomfortable Enough To Change

The stress of this month felt like an anxiety stress-bomb went off inside me and left me unable to sleep and feeling on edge constantly. My body felt like it was stuck in fight or flight mode – as if cortisol was constantly being pumped into my blood stream. Something had to give, so I called a friend who is learning to quiet the mind. She gave me a meditation to try.

For the last week, I have been practicing a 1-hour daily meditation where I simply focus on feeling my breath go in and out in one small patch of my nose. If my mind wanders, no big deal, just bring it back to the patch inside my nose and feel my breath in that space. If I find myself going into any kind of blissful, deeper zone, I’m supposed to roll with it, succumb to the bliss.

I’ve replaced some of my lie-in-bed-at-night-ruminating time with this meditation practice. Other days, I set aside an hour during the day for it. Today, I did my hour after my Sunday afternoon nap.

I can’t say I’ve had any great illuminating moment from doing this, but it is showing me how much time I spend in fruitless analysis of why things have happened the way they did or what the future might hold. My mind is very busy doing a bunch of gyrations that basically amount to nothing of value. What’s worse, this over-analysis is stress-inducing. My muscles tighten. My jaws clench. I toss and turn. What for?

The more I do these meditations, the more I catch myself through the day and notice my thoughts and feelings. I step back into my core self and become more aware that all of these “rat-on-a-wheel” gyrations of the mind are robbing me of my joy and stealing my happiness.

Living in the Now

I’m trying to live more in the now… the present moment… not rehashing the past and not stressing about the future. Just doing the next right thing.

Recently, I read this quote by Henry B Eyring about Christ’s admonishment to be as a little child:

“Our natures must be changed to become as a child to gain the strength we must have to stand steady and at peace in times of peril.”

Henry B. Eyring

The insight struck me that little children live completely in the moment. They have no sense of clock time. They aren’t bound by schedules, and they really have trouble grasping the concept of time at all. They are totally present in the moment.

Maybe the peace that passes all understanding is found by lovingly living in the present moment and trusting our Heavenly Father has us… just like a child trusts her parents.

This year, I have been praying for a change in my nature to become more Christ-like and less in my head and more in the moment. Perhaps these challenges are like a storm driving my ship steadily to the Promised Land of being who God knows I can be. “All things work together for good…”