Sometimes we long to be at two equally appealing places at the same time. But we have to choose one
Often it happens that we want to be at two places at once. And consequently we land up somewhere in the in-between i.e. neither here nor there.
For example, I have often wished to attend two classes at one time; very Hermione Granger, someone would say. (Those who aren’t Harry Potter fans, for you I would just say that take Hermione as someone who is a nerd yet neither boring nor insignificant or bespectacled!).
But really, if one comes to think of it then how was Hermione doing that? How was she cramming so much information in a single brain of hers (no matter how utterly brilliant that brain was!)? Not to mention her knack of blurting out the exact spells during countless life-threatening situations. But there is a limit to the information/knowledge the mind could plausibly contain in a day’s time. Did she never have an information overload?
Never mind about Ms Granger!
The point I am trying to make here is that sometimes we long to be at two equally appealing places at the same time. But we have to choose one since we are neither time travellers like Henry DeTamble of The Time Traveler’s Wife nor do we have a time machine like the one in Terminator Genisys. What we have is more like what Jamie Sullivan of A Walk to Remember had. A good old wish list with a wish to be at two places at once!
The truth of the matter is that when this wish is not fulfilled we are not present (physically yes, mentally no) at the place where we are and we are also definitely not at the other place where we long to be. It’s a very sad state indeed (pun intended!). But what to do?
Perhaps accepting where you are can help a lot. Or better, to tell the mind "I’ve chosen this place (no matter how stupid it has turned out to be later on) but I am going to be here since I made the decision!"
Taking the above sad state a step further is the need to know the future or to undo the past. And both are done at the price of the present moment. Inevitably, the present keeps on becoming the past and we lurch to undo it. It’s a vicious circle.
But I have noticed that those who end up breaking the circle do something pretty simple: they delve (and because of that, enjoy) the present moment. At the end of the day that is all one really has. For them, the future can take care of itself and the past is gone. Just like Master Oogway says in Kung Fu Panda: "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present."
It must be fun living that way, I wonder.