Back in the 1970s, when I was a teenager, I’d listen to the radio while driving Mom’s Volkswagen around town running errands for her. There were more than a few songs I liked singing along to: “Time Keeps on Slippin into the Future,” by Steve Miller, “I Got No Time,” by the Guess Who, and “Turn! Turn! Turn!” By the Byrds. 

The lyrics to these songs all referred to how time keeps slipping into the future, how we don’t have time and that there is a season for every purpose, under heaven. 

    Settling Down in the Present

Back in the seventies, I couldn’t wait to graduate from high school and move away from home. Then, once I turned eighteen, I couldn’t wait to turn twenty-one so I could go to the bars with my true identity instead of falsifying my age. 

When I became a Mom, I couldn’t wait for my babies to grow out of those 2 a.m. feedings and sleep through the night. Then I couldn’t wait until they were potty trained so there would be an end to the  expense and stench of diapers. 

Building our first home on raw property, I couldn’t wait to have electricity, running water and a telephone. Then, I couldn’t wait until we sold our home and moved into another one. 

On and on it went with me; I can’t wait until…

Time does keep ticking into the future, but one second at a time. None of us can skip or fast forward those discomforting, dissatisfying or displeasing parts of our days. Instead, we get to learn to live through them one breath at a time, one moment at a time. 

Consequently, discomfort, sorrow, unrest, or pain lasts for only one moment at a time. Remembering this makes it a little simpler to live through it. If I can remember that I only have to live through one moment then in another moment, something may change. 

The next second might bring a smidgen of joy, a sense of satisfaction, an unexpected pleasure or peaceful contentment. 

It is in learning to live each moment as a moment in time that our appreciation of little increments of life improve. 

Why bother living in the moment. Paul Simon’s song reminds me that when I slow down and stop moving too fast, I just might feel groovy.