you of who you used to be. It’s the Bible with the battered
cover, the journal filled with scribbled, secret dreams. It isn’t
pretty, necessarily—it isn’t supposed to be.
Present is living with your feet firmly grounded in
reality, pale and uncertain as it may seem. Present is
choosing to believe that your own life is worth investing
deeply in, instead of waiting for some rare miracle or fairy
tale. Present means we understand that the here and now is
sacred, sacramental, threaded through with divinity even in
its plainness. Especially in its plainness.
Present over perfect living is real over image,
connecting over comparing, meaning over mania, depth
over artifice. Present over perfect living is the risky and
revolutionary belief that the world God has created is
beautiful and valuable on its own terms, and that it doesn’t
need to be zhuzzed up and fancy in order to be wonderful.
Sink deeply into the world as it stands. Breathe in the
smell of rain and the scuff of leaves as they scrape across
driveways on windy nights. This is where life is, not in some
imaginary, photo-shopped dreamland. Here. Now. You, just
as you are. Me, just as I am. This world, just as it is. This is
the good stuff. This is the best stuff there is. Perfect has
nothing on truly, completely, wide-eyed, open-souled
present.
When I was slipping out of my heels and pencil skirts—my