It may be heresy to chop up a poem, but these are the bits I would like to serve:

"… I could feel the day offering itself to me,
and I wanted nothing more
than to be in the moment — but which moment?
Not that one, or that one, or that one
or any of those that were scuttling by
seemed perfectly right for me…

… And so the priceless moments of the day were squandered one by one —
or more likely a thousand at a time —
with quandary and pointless interrogation.

All I wanted was to be a pea of being
inside the green pod of time…”

From ‘In The Moment’ by Billy Collins