What’s Wrong with Now

I came across a sweet Facebook post written by a father who was describing how proud he is of his young son who successfully pitched his first little league baseball game. Despite the boy having an off-field injury, he did an incredibly amazing job, according to his father.

I normally don’t take the time to read a lengthy post, but the pride and joy oozing through my phone screen made it irresistible. The dad described how his son had stitches near his eye from a mishap just days earlier. His wife didn’t think it was a good idea for him to play and made light-hearted threats if anything happened to make his injury worse. It was obviously meant to be – not only did the young lad play, but the coach decided to give him a chance at pitching for the first time. Impressive game stats were included. Amazing! The post ended with dad reiterating his pride and a final statement; “Can’t wait to see what is to come of him.”

I was immediately pulled from the tenderness of the moment to the expectation that it needed to become something more.

I’m not saying this to pick on my Facebook friend. He was excited about the success of his son, as any parent would be. Rather, it made me recognize something we all do – spend more time looking for something more, instead of savoring what is happening right now.

In fact, that last statement stung because I do it more often than I’d like to admit. My workouts lead to thoughts of pristine physique, I guzzle my first cup of coffee so I can get to my second, I’m planning my next vacation while I’m on vacation, and I binge watch an entire Netflix show because I can’t wait to see what happens next. I’m not sure why the current moment is never enough.  Instead, anticipation of the future becomes more important and ‘now’ is missed.

Why is satisfaction so temporary? Whatever happened to “sometimes you need to stop and smell the roses”? I don’t know the answer to these questions. I just know that my kids aren’t little anymore and I wonder how many sweet moments I missed because I was too busy looking ahead.

Maybe my friend’s son will become the next Cy Young or maybe he’ll decide he doesn’t like baseball and find a different passion. But on the day he pitched his first little league game, he was an amazing pitcher.

If I could rewrite the ending of my friend’s post, I’d end it with, ‘Man, that was amazing. Let’s go get some ice cream.’

The future will be here soon enough. These journey moments are the moments.

Think about this: What’s wrong with now?