Today is an Amazing Day

A few years ago, I discovered that my constant attention to having a backup plan (and then a backup plan for the backup plan. And then two more backup plans for each of those backup plans) is likely a result of trauma--stemming from genuine experiences of uncertainty and fear. All my backup plans are hypervigilance, an attempt to stay two steps ahead of every possible worst-case scenario. 

Boss-btchn' it in NYC. 

Sound exhausting? It is. Is it any better now? I'd like to think it is. I'll still find myself trying to plan for all the bad things that could happen in the future. When that frenzy starts, I attempt to orient myself to the present, reminding myself of the good things that are right here and right now. 

Rooting ourselves in the present--of all the tastes, sights, and smells of the moment, is one way to calm our nervous system and assure ourselves that whatever might come in the future, right now, we are safe. 

This week, I went on a relatively last-minute trip to New York City, working during the day and seeing shows at night. This was on my list of dream trips. I got a black cardamom latte every morning and chased sunlight through the shadows of skyscrapers. 

I have a lot swirling in my mind these days. Most of the time I have my head down, thinking, thinking, thinking. But every now and then, I looked up at the sky forming the backdrop to the buildings. I listened to the sound of the cars honking and people bustling. I took a sip of my latte, then said to my companion, "Today is an amazing day."