Flow: This Is What It Looks Like

I arrive out at my 93-year-old mother’s house for lunch. I’ve picked up some delicious sandwiches from the deli near my home, and I find my mom waiting, table set, with a big, warm smile. We hug each other as I enter. It is a treat being with my mother. Her home is one of the few places I can go inside with no mask, given my husband’s low immune system.

My mother recounts her morning: she walked on the treadmill, called a friend, and took a hot bath. She is smiling, and a warmth fills the room as sun shines in through the windows of her three-season porch. I see the pictures of my father and brother Jim over on the bar cart. Both have passed on, and there are yellow roses next to their pictures—always fresh and always yellow roses.

We catch up on news about her friends and various family members, as well as how she has been feeling and sleeping, which is always a hot topic.

Since the Covid-19 pandemic began, my mother has not been out in public, other than to get her hair done once a week in an empty salon, where her hairdresser wears a mask, and to go to a few doctor appointments. Yet, she is cheerful, full of life, and recounts the range of friends and neighbors she has recently talked with on the phone. Every month her neighbors meet for a short gathering outdoors to say hello and toast any neighbor who may be having a birthday. My Mom enjoys organizing this event.

Out of curiosity, I say to her, “In a given week, do you ever find yourself worrying?”

“No,” she replies.

“Do you find yourself, in a given week, having moments of feeling anxiety?”

“No.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I really don’t. I have adapted.”

I look at her neatly coiffed hair, her stylish blue cat-eye eyeglasses, and the smile on her face, and I marvel. I notice that in the pandemic she has become a bit smaller, a little more hunched over, and is having more trouble hearing; she is now wearing hearing aids. I’m fascinated by her response.

I feel her strength, fortitude, and unwavering faith.

When I need prayers answered, I always call my mom who has a “direct connection to God.” I even occasionally have her pray for my friends. I have her write down their names and my prayer requests on a Post-It note, to make it easy for her.

Again, I marvel as I watch her carefully. I feel a nudging inside me, a feeling of internal guidance that says to me, take note.

This is what flow looks like.

This is what acceptance looks like.

This is what living in the here and now looks like.

I am grateful to have this teaching right in front of my eyes. It’s priceless, especially as I navigate going on only limited outings. I can find myself having an array of varied feelings and longings, including fear and unrest, because, after all, I’m human.

Here and now, there are many gifts right in front of our eyes. We don’t need to travel to a far-off country if we open to the wonder of what is right here for each one of us.

Do you go with the flow?

Are you accepting life as it unfolds?

How are you living this precious life you’ve been given?