“This isn’t working”, I say to my husband. Frustrated I pull my headphones out of my ears and pull my hair back with my hands, holding my tears in with every ounce of control I have.

“What’s not working?” he says, reaching out to touch my arms and gently coax them off my face.

“Writing. It’s just not working.”

“Are you overwhelmed?” he asks, already knowing the answer, because he’s my husband and he’s damn good at his job.


“Do you want to talk about it?"


“Then let me hold you.”


He wraps me up in his arms on the couch and just lets me be here. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of my breath. The sound of his breath. I hear my heartbeat and his and I can remember: “This is what matters, Monica. This is all that matters.” I let go of everything that’s happened the last few months and allow myself to be in this moment. Moving into our new apartment, changing jobs, my husbands’ now torn Achilles and the six months of recovery to follow. It all goes away, and I can breathe because I’m here.

It’s shocking how much of our days are spent either worrying about the future or concerning ourselves with the past. Gossiping, passing judgements, worrying, creating a resume of failures and excuses, anger towards those who have hurt us - these are all things we hold on to that keep us in the past. Working harder, moving to a new city, a corner office, a bigger balance in our bank account - these are all things we chase that keep us in the future.

But what about right now?

Can you be here? Can you put down your phone and make eye contact with someone without getting anxious? Could you start that difficult conversation you know you need to have? What would it be like to fully be in a room with your loved ones and know that you are supported? Being present gives us the courage to address the things we need to change and be grateful for what we already have. We remember how precious ‘now’ is and all it has to give us.

My husband gives me a squeeze. We laugh about the state of our apartment and we joke about his boot. I kiss his forehead. We order Chinese food for dinner and watch a goofy movie together. I write my submission. It’s a perfect Sunday, and I was here to experience it.


Monica Pirani is a yoga teacher living in New York City with her amazing husband. She grew up loving dinosaurs and shoulder stand, and is a self-proclaimed science geek. She loves writing, yoga, summer, french fries, and empowering others to remember that they are already whole and complete. One day she’ll own a dog, but that’s a story for another day.

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