Living in the moment

In preparation for adopting a new rescued dog to add to our small "pack" (now consisting of my husband, the two cats and me), I've been reading the three César Millán books (of "Dog Whisperer" fame), and one of the bits of wisdom that he stresses is that dogs live in the moment, that they don't fret about the past or the future, but appreciate (or are aware?) of every minute as they are living it.

I'm consciously trying to implement this dog approach by making the most of each summer day that's left. Last night, for example, I was in bed by 10 p.m., which is unheard of in our household. Although while on vacation in Puerto Rico we always managed to be in bed by that time, which is optimal given that I'm up by 6 a.m. or so, here in Ohio we (or at least I) have trouble getting in bed before 11 p.m. There's always one more thing to do or one more e-mail to answer or someone else to tend to. But last night, I actually was able to get in my comfy, warm bed, while I heard the cool rain fall outside, and could take up my book (the fabulously written A Death in Belmont by Sebastian Junger) and read for a few minutes before my husband and I called it a night.

Earlier that afternoon, in a long conversation with a nineteen-year-old, she wondered why it's so difficult to be disciplined in all aspects of life, and I told her that (even at 47) I have the same problem. I can be very disciplined for many things but there are other aspects of my life (like getting to bed early!) that elude my efforts at control. Still, while I am a control freak, I do realize that you can't control all aspects of life. After all, as some very wise person (supposedly John Lennon?) said: "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." I'm living proof of that.

In tangible things I can control, though, like my scholarship, I'm being productive this summer. This week, I sent off my first full article to a journal, American Quarterly, and am now holding my breath, hoping that they take it or, at the very least, ask for revisions and re-submission. I'm working on a second article, about a novella by Ramón Emeterio Betances, which I hope to send later this summer to a Puerto Rican journal, and have started thinking about a third article I've been asked to write about a Puerto Rican poet for a collection of critical writings about him. I also managed to write (with the help of my husband's keen-eyed editing) an opinion piece about Sonia Sotomayor's confirmation, which is now being pitched to different newspapers by a colleague. Thus, it's not like this summer has been or is devoid of "work," but that the work has felt more like fun than obligation.

Nonetheless, for what remains of this wonderful (if rather coldish) summer, I'm going to make a point to get a hold of those more elusive goals and make good on them, too. As I tell my students, you have to be "hungry" for something to have ambition and to have the discipline to achieve it. But if that "hunger" is there because you think it's expected of you but it's not really your own, then you will continually sabotage yourself and end up saying one thing but doing another, which isn't conducive to self-knowledge or to building trust-based relationships with others.

My ambitions this summer, apart from getting to bed at a more reasonable time, also include becoming more of a locavore and taking better advantage of all the fresh produce available in these parts. For one, I'd like to try to bake a peach cobbler a week (even though the newspaper today reports that the Ohio peach crop is down by 65 percent!). The goal is not to gain more pounds (I'm also on a quest to reduce girth through regular exercise and better eating) but to share with friends and neighbors (the first one I made earlier this week disappeared in one day, split among five or six people!).

Once our new dog is here (maybe tomorrow? Saturday?), I'll have more lessons to learn from her (who'll be re-named Lizzy, in honor of Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice fame), and she will also have to learn from us (including obedience classes!). But I hope that what I remember this summer most for was for how I didn't just talk the talk but walked the walked to a more conscious, present way of living.