Groundhog Day
Lately I’ve been feeling like Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog Day. In recent weeks it’s the same routine, the same uncertainty, and the same boredom day in and day out.
Every night it feels like I’m watching a rerun of the previous night’s evening news - COVID-19, the failing economy, and the anger on both sides of the open or not debate. It’s as if tonight’s news could have been two months ago or two months from now. Like Groundhog Day, life seems to be stuck at a standstill and on auto repeat.
The illusion of feeling stuck in an endless day is enough to drive one mad. As Einstein once said, “The separation between past, present and future is only an illusion, although a convincing one.” Of course, time isn’t really stuck and there is movement, but it’s easy to feel hopeless if you look in the wrong places.
When I have faced vast uncertainty in my life - Losing my job, the end of a close relationship, the passing of a loved one, a global pandemic, two things tend to happen. First, the days get really long and I’m prone to escape these endless hours with distractions and numbing. Secondly, I spend much of my time ruminating and dwelling on the past or future. Looking back, I rehash my missteps and fall into the pratfalls of guilt and shame. When I’m not looking back, I turn my gaze towards the what’s to come. My brain keeps me up at night spinning in a merry go round of yet unanswered questions: “What’s going to happen? Where will I go? What will I do? What if this pain never ends?” The list goes on.
It’s a cycle I have repeated many, many times throughout the years. Then something brings me back to the moment. To the present. To what I have always known – there is only now and love is the answer.
In the movie Groundhog Day when faced with the prospect of having to repeat the same day over and over again, Bill Murray’s character, Phil Connors first embraces his plight by indulging his every desire from binge eating to habitually womanizing. But eventually these distractions lose their allure and Phil becomes despondent, determining that suicide is the only choice left. But even that doesn’t work - the days keep coming. Only love offers him a way out.
Like Phil Connors, when I have felt stuck, I’ve tried almost every trick in the book (minus the robbery and suicide attempts). My indulgences range from comfort food to cold beer; YouTube clips to endless scrolling on my phone. At some point my wife inevitably pleads with me to put the phone down and be present.
It’s good advice. It’s really the only advice - There is only now, use it wisely.
Remember when you were a little kid? Your parents would tell you it was only three weeks until your birthday or three months until the family trip to Disneyland. You’d wake up every day asking, “is today the day?” But three weeks might as well have been three years to a three year old. As a small child you had no concept of time. There is no yesterday or tomorrow, only today.
As adults many are inclined to trade the wonder of living in the present for the tug of war between blissful memories and wishful thinking. We internalize regret and mull over the paralyzing uncertainty of the future. To cope with this loop of hope, fear and remorse, we tend to form “busy” lives with jobs, families, and activities.
Only discipline or a crisis breaks this cycle of busyness. The discipline of mindfulness allows you to see the truth about time and a crisis forces you to reevaluate how you use it. Sometimes a crisis is necessary to wake us up and ground us on a new foundation. Sometimes discipline is necessary to remind us what we already know - there is only now, use it wisely.
This year Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow and predicted an early spring. While temperatures have stayed generally above average, ironically, ‘winter’ still endures for many. Darkness feels prevalent, sickness is in the air, and we yearn for the new beginnings of spring.
I’m guessing this moment likely isn’t your favorite moment. This pandemic has brought a lot of primal fear, anger, and dysfunction to the surface. In response, maybe you’re looking back pining away for the good old busy days. Maybe you’re using your time now swimming in a sea of distractions: surfing, scrolling, and binging. Or maybe you’re up late at night paralyzed with fear about the future.
In these present circumstances, sometimes life feels like Groundhog Day. Add in a heavy dose of fear and uncertainty and the choices can feel limited - escape the present, wish for the past, or hope for the future. All seem like reasonable choices given the climate of quarantines, protests, and social distancing.
I can’t blame you for looking back, escaping the present, or worrying about the future. I’m certainly guilty on most days. But then I remember that I only have one job - to love - my Maker, my neighbor, and myself.
Love is an activity that is only available in the present. As Phil Connors learned in that classic movie, sandwiched between meditating on the past and an imagined future, the present ultimately offers no choice but to love. When faced with immense hatred, the tumultuous Sixties, and the vast uncertainty of the future, Martin Luther king Jr. said, “We have before us the glorious opportunity to inject a new dimension of love into the veins of our civilization.” We too have this glorious opportunity.
Whether it’s real life or a movie script, the futile effort of trying to escape the moment only exacerbates our circumstances. The past is merely an unreliable memory, the future is yet an unknown mystery, and the present offers us the opportunity to go deeper and to love. There is only now, use it wisely.