Then I reflected that everything happens to a man precisely, precisely now. Centuries of centuries and only in the present do things happen…
~ Jorge Luis Borges
It was a late summer day when I went down to the lake. I had just had a fight with my wife, and the tranquility of the lake surrounded by its lush green forested hills always calmed my soul.
The sun was hot on my back as I dove in. The shock of cold water invigorated my senses. I became aware and present in the moment.
As I swam toward the center, it began to rain. My eyes at water level watched the droplets hit, bouncing off the surface, creating ripples radiating outward. The fog closed in. The shoreline disappeared. The lake turned grey, and I disappeared into my own reality. Down became up as the water mirrored the sky. I became lost in time and in space and in thought. All time converged on the now as I remembered the future and imagined the past. The only reality is the now, the immediate, the tactile. What I cannot touch or smell or taste or hear or see does not exist, it is only an imperfect memory or a hope or a dream.
I swam aimlessly through the fog, not thinking of past or future. Experiencing the now. The feel of cold water on my skin, sound of the quiet, and the rain hitting the water, the taste of the cool fresh rain, and the smell of the freshness of the storm chasing away the stale summer heat. Infinity opened, and I could see from the birth of the universe until the end of time, everything was now, everything existed in this moment.
Slowly the rain stopped. The fog lifted, and I swam to the tree lined shore. The moment was gone, existing only as a memory or a dream.