Besides in-depth artistic renderings and brilliant stick figure adventures, cavemen can teach us a thing or two about presence and celebration.
The essence of life as a caveman was survival. Their biggest task was to stay alive day-to-day, defending themselves against threats as they sought food and shelter.
After ensuring survival one more day, I picture them sitting around the campfire enjoying a moment of safety and rest, fully present and thankful for another day of life, literally.
I’m not sure when it happened, but some of us began to lose our ability to transition into a sense of accomplishment and reward after a day of effort. We may seldom get out of survival, or strategy mode. Maybe not in prehistoric ways, but many of us stay in survival states just the same.
What will I do tomorrow? What will I do next week? What if that doesn’t work? What if they don’t show up? What if that breaks? Where should I move? What job would be better for me? We need to clean out the gutters.
Our minds go on and on about the things we think are essential to our survival. We don’t stop at the end of the day to acknowledge a sincere effort, and then set everything else aside until tomorrow.
I can’t see cavemen worrying, planning, analyzing and obsessing as much as some of us do, me included. I’m sure they worried plenty, but I like to think they turned it off when the threats were gone and basic needs were met—that they could end a day and let it be good enough until they started again tomorrow.
When’s the last time you felt you had done enough at the end of a day, when you actually sat in gratitude to relish the fruits of what your time yielded? I don’t do that nearly enough.
Cavemen depended on their ability to stay in the moment as they pursued food, navigated harsh elements, and protected themselves from animal attacks and enemies.
We have the luxury in our comfortable lives not to have to stay in the moment, certainly not as a matter of life and death. We worry plenty, but not usually for “in the moment” things like food and shelter. Unlike cavemen, our worries do the opposite and take us out of the moment.
What would happen if we sought to concern ourselves only with the matters of the day? I’m not saying we don’t need to plan ahead, but that’s different than keeping worry as a constant companion.
Cavemen knew how to celebrate in the truest sense of the word. They gave thanks and honored life, daily. We can also aspire to celebrate and give thanks, not just on special days, but for everyday life, as they did.
Right now, ask yourself if you’re in this moment or out of it? Can you let today’s effort be enough, celebrate what was good about it, and let this day end in silence, in a state of contentment?
We can’t celebrate and worry at the same time. Let’s be mindful how we’re using our energy and how that is serving us.
Wishing you presence and celebration, this Thanksgiving week and always.
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