I have always been a worrier, perhaps because I have always lived for the future. Plans, goals, benchmarks all dominated my thinking for many, many years, not only for myself, but for my family, my students, and my colleagues. I was so goal oriented that you would have called me driven. But then, how else would I have accomplished all of my goals and dreams from youth, as well as my other goals along the way into adulthood. That was until retirement; then I had to construct a whole new set of plans for the future. I would travel, I would write, I would continue learning, I would spend time with my friends, and I would support and enjoy my family. But even with those happy plans, I couldn’t get rid of worry. What if…? was always in the back of my mind.

     As one ages, one hopefully learns from experience that the things most feared rarely happen, while the things one never sees coming are the very threats that cause one’s undoing: death. loss, illness, natural disasters, domestic catastrophes, random accidents. As the old saying goes, “Whatever CAN go wrong probably will.”  Nevertheless, with the benefit of age and hindsight, patterns emerge, priorities begin to assert themselves, and the truth becomes remarkably clear: the past is over, the future hasn’t happened yet, and the present is all there is. 

     There is a big difference between worrying about the future and striving toward it. The current prevalence of mandates to “live in the present,” “practice mindfulness,” “develop an attitude of gratitude,” “live one day at a time,” “take time to smell the roses,” — all these mantras, while clichéd perhaps, contain a fundamental truth: you can’t foresee the future, and you certainly can’t control it.  All you really have is the present and, if you spend all your time worrying about what might happen in the future, you essentially squander the time you have to live right now.

     Younger generations, Millennials  (b.1980 – 1994) and Gen Z (b. 1995 -2009), have long since recognized their present reality and acknowledged rational limits to future possibilities. Some might say it’s because, sadly, that younger people don’t have the high aspirations or see the unlimited prospects that previous generations did. While that’s probably true, it’s still sad. Certainly, we Boomers thought we could have it all/do it all/be it all and we would kill ourselves trying. Yet, there is a certain solace, even a quiet power in recognizing limitations amid the reality of what is. “It is what it is,” as everyone quips today. Ironically, we are all, old and young  alike, now coming to understand that. My young friends, ie. my former students, call it “living in Realville.” Sounds right to me, though I have a more classic name for it.

        Stoicism is a school of philosophy that flourished in ancient Greece and Rome. Essentially, it professes that a well-lived life is achieved by the practice of virtue. In other words, it is not what you say, but how you behave that matters, and it is not what you accumulate, but what you do with what you accumulate, because things are neither good or bad in themselves. One of the main virtues of Stoicism is living in the present, and so “It is what it is” is merely the contemporary expression of that philosophy. Thinking about, worrying about, stressing over the past and the future is futile. It’s our loss when we nonchalantly ignore the positive realities of the present — the beauty of the sunrise, a clear blue sky, the crystal oceans, a magnificent landscape, the presence of the people we love — all the simple, natural wonders before us.  Appreciation and awareness of the now is perhaps our last hope to some solace and sanity in a complicated, chaotic, and often ugly world.

     Now I’m not suggesting that accepting the realities of present life situations is always easy; far from it. In times of great stress and difficulty, acceptance can be one of the hardest, most daunting challenges we face. But the powers of appreciation and awareness — and I don’t just mean “gratitude journals” — may soften the landing from a sudden fall into chasms sadness and desperation. I’m talking about waking up grateful for another day, deciding how to make that day the best day you can, and then embracing whatever is available that might make you happy. 

     Perhaps it is a new outfit, or an additional decorative touch to your hone. Maybe it is a small day trip, or reading a really good book, cleaning out a closet or talking to a friend. It doesn’t have to be a lavish indulgence or an expensive purchase; it just has to be something satisfying, like eating chocolate ice cream or watching a good movie or looking for shooting stars.

     I have been going through somewhat of a difficult time myself lately, and have thought a lot about what can make each day not only tolerable, but pleasurable and meaningful, because each day is all we have. There is a philosophy called “presentism,” which literally insists that the present is the ONLY reality and that nothing else, past or future, even exists. I can’t quite go that far, because we are all human, we all have memories of our past, and we all sometimes worry about the future whether we want to or not. But I have, at this late stage in my life, finally found a new mantra for living with life’s vicissitudes: Enjoy now, worry later!

     And that’s what I intend to do — especially when my new car arrives.