Another long day

The day has been long. What does this mean the day has been long? I have spent my entire day trying to grasp and cling to what is the normal routine. But, all I did was miss it.

Morning: I wake up, brush teeth, make my coffee, kiss the girls goodbye, get in car and drive to work. All of these things seem to play out as they always do. The toothpaste is right where I left it. The morning coffee tastes the same as always. I kiss my girls with the same love and affection as always. The morning drive is just as it always is. Some drive slow, some fast, some cut me off and some ride too close. I arrive at work park my car and cross the street of death to my building. I arrive safely across the street and walk to the building where I spend my work day like any other. Check my email. I put my coat away sit at my desk browse the usual sites for news and status updates. I begin my work day as usual tying off loose ends, beginning new projects and finishing the ones that somehow come back from the dead to haunt myself and my colleagues.

Lunch: It's a staff meeting day. We discuss the economy, company goals, new employees old employees, lay offs and recognize our accomplishments. Then its over. Pizza time. As usual I grab a few slices of the veggie variety. And grab some fruit and veggies & dip. We all chit chat for a bit and I head back to my desk to get back to work.

Evening: It's the end of the work day. And as I drive home I realize. . . I was never there. Right from the start I was never truly present. I wasn't present when I brushed my teeth. I wasn't present while driving my car to work. I wasn't present while I avoided speeding motorists walking across the street to work. It all just played out as it always does. So I did not feel the need to truly be present.

I then spent my evening at home feeling foolish for not being present. Which believe it or not is not being present. I spent my day with my ego and listening to myself talk.

Letting go of grasping. It is time to sit and be present.

Namasté