My first moment of consciousness

I remember the first time I felt the "Now". I was sitting on the toilet.

Oh Jesus, God why?
I look at the gold and brown seventies tiles, cold under my feet. Head in my hands I try to force tears. They come but I feel like a faker, and they don't last long. More like a wave of emotion than crying, with not even a solitary teary line on my cheek to punctuate my sadness.

How? How could I be here? Not, "here", in the bathroom, "here", but in this dreadful place. Such pain. My essence seems to be an amalgam of every tortured line from every country song that's ever been. "I AM country music", I sob. I HATE country music.

It's not really important what events brought me to that situation. Dog died, wife left, I really don't remember. There's been so much sadness. But I remember being there and I remember the sadness and dread I felt. And there, sitting alone on the toilet, I had a thought. It was an epiphany, though I didn't know it at the time.

"What problems do I have right here and now, alone in the toilet?"
"Why, none."

And there I sat for many moments prodding and poking at this curious notion. The cold tile walls and skylight seemed to vibrate in agreement. And then it was gone.

In hindsight I know that I thought, "Well that's all great, but I can't spend the rest of my life in the toilet."
But back then all I knew was the moment had gone.

I flushed and walked back to my misery.