On Learning to Linger

I didn’t choose a “word of the year” as I have in previous Januaries. But if I had, my word should have been linger.

(Hat tip to my fellow Gen-X readers who, upon hearing that word, conjure Dolores O’Riordon belting it out, may she rest in peace.)

One of the things I work on with my therapist is learning to stay in the moment.

To be present. To ground myself in reality. I don’t have a tattoo, but if I were to get one, it might read “Be Here Now”.

It’s simple, but not easy. My personal tendency is to squirrel. I’m cerebral. I’ve been ignoring my feelings, instincts and intuitions for decades. (And had years of crippling stomach pain and other psychosomatic symptoms to prove it.)

But I’m getting better at this practice.

Yesterday my 17 year old daughter handed me a pencil and asked me to part her hair in the middle. She often wears it in two braids.

It’s such a simple thing. Easy to rush through in the busy morning routine, without paying attention.

But yesterday, I was struck by the simple beauty of this quotidian task.

My daughter will be an adult all too soon, and she won’t be asking me to help her with her hair, or any other aspect of personal care.

When our children are small, we relish in the physical intimacy we enjoy with them. The breastfeeding. The cuddling and rocking. The morning and bedtime snuggles. The time spent in laps. The kissing of boo-boos.

But as they get older, we don’t have as many opportunities to be this close.

As I parted my daughter’s hair yesterday, I felt its thick, still-damp waves in my fingers. I breathed in the smell of her shampoo.

Tears came to my eyes. Someday, it will be the last time I do this for her. Someday, she won’t wear her hair like this. Someday, she won’t even live in my house.

So instead of rushing through it, I lingered. I let the tears come. I grabbed her by the shoulders and held her. I tuned into my body and enjoyed the feeling (of … privilege? gratitude? love? nostalgia?) for a moment longer.

“Mom, are you ok?”

“Yes. I love you so much.”

In her book Off The Clock, Laura Vanderkam says that we need to “woo memories“.

To savor is to feel pleasure, and also to appreciate that you are feeling pleasure. It takes normal gratification and adds a second layer to it, acknowledgement.

(If you’re so inclined, download this research document for more “ways of savoring“. Check out page 9 in particular. It’s a sort of checklist of strategies for making moments last longer.)

Because life is lived in moments. One of the best ways to be happier is to fully enjoy those moments, instead of getting stuck on the past or allowing your mind to squirrel to future worries. In the present moment, we almost never have an actual problem.

For the first time in I don’t know how long, I don’t have any goals or ambitions.

The past couple of years have been about stressful life changes and healing from trauma. My brain is exhausted from all that’s been going on. Too tired to think about improving myself. I’m in survival mode.

And that’s ok.

Meanwhile, I’m focused on enjoying the moments of my life.

How do you cultivate the art of lingering?