fail #1: holding onto a moment I wanted to have, but couldn’t

It is morning, and I’m in bed. I get a call on my phone. It’s my wife, who’s sleeping downstairs in this early postpartum season. “Just thought you might want to wake up so that you get a little time to yourself.”

“It’s too late,” I reply. “They’re already here.”

We are speaking of our beloved ones, the ones whose eyes are peering at me in the dark to see if I would get up and make them eggs and toast, read them stories, change their diapers, and help them get their snow pants on.

But because I cannot have what I wished to have, I try and grasp after that hour alone through resistance.

Resistance of the reality that the opportunity has come and gone.
Resistance of entering into the next given moment.
Resistance of the forces at play when toddlers get hungry for snacks.

The revolt is a failure.

And it was a failure as long as I was unwilling to accept that I had missed my opportunity and that it was time to move on. Unfortunately, I report to you that I was unwilling to accept it until after it got dark again.

Holding onto a moment is different from being present to it. The first is an attempt to keep it, and the second acknowledges that there is actually nothing to keep. The present comes and goes. You can either go with it, or resist.