Now and Here

No longer forward nor behind, I look with hope or fear; But, grateful, take the good I find, The Best of now and here.

John Greenleaf Whitter Cited in Prayers for Healing

These words and meaning of the classic Protestant hymn, taken from Whittier’s poetry has gone through many revisions and exclamations in my life; throughout my singing of them in leading worship, to now engaging in a more intentional lifelong reflection, I find myself asking daily what value and inspiration those words and ideas might still hold for me…

It might be a universal quality of youthful enthusiasm, but I never asked about the here and now until I was 30; I was too preoccupied with “what’s next?” or what new ideas and allied adventures could entice or enthrall me. Not that I was all that adventurous, but in retrospect, my adventures were mostly framed by my curiosity about life, ideas, motivations, values etc. A curiosity that made my formative and early studies in psychology, sociology, meditation and consciousness, become the ways I could naively design to satisfy my inner quests with workable answers.

All through ministry, with its needs for worship and committee planning, necessary anticipation for problem-solving, and other pastoral and administrative challenges, living in the now and here was a formidable challenge! A challenge that most often escaped me the minute I left my more meditative times and exercises to confront the perceived and real demands of society, and its myriad of career and life responsibilities.

As I have matured, the days themselves have developed an added value. Now free of the nagging need for accomplishment, I am more free to plan what I would like to do that fills my days… and yet… There are certainly other distractions; from the mass media and political talking heads, to my personal concerns about health and the risk of losing the mental resilience and physical flexibility I once took for granted. Each concern can still be a formidable foe that keep me from living in the here and now…

The shifts I am making, or that I will continually make through these years of writing and reflecting, come down to the quality of my time; and to make the best of the years and what time and sense of purpose I might have left.

The solitary life I have can have its perks and pleasures. I now savor the ability to have a more singular purpose of sharing whatever I know, from whatever roads I have traveled; to share whatever I can give to the next generation might be purpose enough for me.