Being Present

It was the first Sunday of 2019 and I was visiting a friend. We took a walk along the river nearby. It was a rare gorgeous sunny day and the weather was warm. 

My friend and I are almost two generations apart and our conversation has a unique atmosphere. She is a physical therapist who trains people who just had surgeries or suffer from various diseases, helping them relearn the essential life skills like climbing stairs or going to the bathroom. I asked for more details, and she delineated movingly how she guided a man to buy a Christmas present for his girlfriend and how surprised she was. Mid-conversation I caught myself thinking about a related scenario and fantasizing how would I recount the story to others.

Although she didn’t notice, I felt bad for spacing out. It would be understandable if I’m in a boring class, but not when I’m talking to someone I love and care about. It became “normal” for me to think about the next item on my to-do list before finishing the last. I blamed the internet and social media for my shorter concentration time and decided to relearn how to focus. 

The first step is becoming intentional. Whenever I catch myself either censuring myself for past mistakes or listing the best and worst scenarios of future situations, I hold up a huge stop sign in my head. 

The second step is changing the mindset. I convinced myself that planning something else mid-task will not increase my productivity. I could finish my homework without thinking too hard, but maybe I wasn’t memorizing the formulas. Of course, there are exceptions like listening to a podcast while driving or showering, but most of the time what you are doing deserves your full concentration. If it doesn’t, maybe it’s the time to rethink your priorities and reorganize your time.

Practice, practice, and practice. Making concentration a habit, and after weeks and months your brain won’t see multitasking a feasible option and you’ll appreciate life a lot more. 

Have you ever felt like you’re not really living? 

Lately, I have been practicing the 5-4-3-2-1 technique. For those who never heard of it, the technique means acknowledging five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. I prefer saying them out loud; there is a magical feeling of hearing yourself reciting things. It helped me with anxiety (I even successfully used it to prevent an anxiety attack) and refocusing on the present moment when I’m feeling grumpy.

Being present is the secret to happiness. Being happy is the secret to success. The world will be a better place if we stop worrying about the past or future and cherish the present—like a wise person said, it’s called a gift for a reason.

Outgrowing

Last weekend, I was sitting on an unmade bed in a hotel room and scrolling down my 165 pages novel draft. In our English class, all honors students are required to do an Independent Writing Project. While it might be a pain in the ass for others to write two hours per week after school, it has never inconvenienced me. I write for two hours every day if time allows.

My IWP project was the YA novel I finished during NaNoWriMo and rewrote without a revision outline. I typed the last word with a smile on my face and a feeling that I won’t come back.

When I go to college, I probably won’t read YA novels as much. Not because my taste becomes more “advanced”. My to-read list is just too long (it has 56 books already!) and there are so much in the world that I want to explore. I want to live the life of people who are so different from me that I shout with delight, “I didn’t know a person could think like that!” They might be at a drastically different age, live on the other side of the world (or a different world!), and/or come from a different culture. And I want to read more literary books and non-fiction. 

That’s how I feel about my novel. During the teenage years, a writer grows immensely, and the improvement is even more tangible for a non-native speaker. I am amazed at how much I’ve grown every time I read something that I wrote two months ago. 

Counting Clouds was a fantastic project—it was right what I needed. I started writing it when I fully accept my sexuality, when I question about religion and love, when I finally let go of the feeling of abandonment. And when I miss the elephant (whom I still couldn’t bring myself to call a stuffed animal) I lost years ago but still couldn’t get over, because the countless days and nights when my parents are “too busy”, she stayed by my side and listened and comforted me. 

Carmen Kessler was so different from me, yet we experienced growing pains and confusions together. We bonded over of our passion for writing and chatted from the warm summer liveliness to the chilly fall tranquility. I have amazing friends now and no longer seek companion from fictional characters, but Carmen and I shared a special relationship that I always hold dear to my heart. 

But now, it’s time to say goodbye.

Farewell, Carmen Kessler. May your future be clear and bright. May you get into your dream college. May your young love with Leela lasts forever. May you stay lifelong friends with Joanne and Dylan.

So, Dr. H, is it too late to change my IWP project?