Little things impede us - the piece of grit in the eye, the stone in the shoe, the small stuff of everyday life that deflates us, knocks us off course. We can start our day, our job, our next meeting, or even just our cup of coffee, with the best will in the world, only to be derailed by the small niggles that drag us away from perfect and purposeful mindfulness. And sometimes it's even hard to know just why we're feeling a little annoyed, rattled or grumpy!

Nobody's perfect, there's no such thing as a perfect day and, certainly, no such thing as a perfect life! Seek perfection and, not only will you be sorely disappointed, you'll drive yourself even madder than how we are when we're normally mindless. And, normally mindless we are! It's how we're wired - no need to elaborate further on this, I've been banging on about it for nearly two decades, psychology has been exploring the problem since the early 1930s at the very least.

So, when we do get derailed, when we find ourselves many mental miles away from the reality of the present moment, there's no need to compound our innate mixed-up mindlessness with a further dose of stupidity... feeling guilty, gettng annoyed, chiding ourselves... all simply further useless thoughts - as if we didn't already have enough of them rattling around in our heads.

My aim is to be present now. I cannot account for the next now - it hasn't arrived yet - and I will not wallow in the possibility that I wasn't fully present in the last now. My presence, now, is informed by who I am (not who I think I am, my personality, an illussion) and by what I have determined to get out of this now in the furtherance of by bigger objectives. You might consider the difficulties of aiming at a moving target - because now keeps changing, time keeps moving, events keep unfolding - but all I can concern myself with is now. If I don't, I'll never experience any of my own life and that would be a waste of a whole life.

My son and daughter, David and Louise, departed separately for Paris following the Christmas break - David the Sunday following Christmas, Louise just two days ago. Both took advantage of the weekend TGV that runs direct from our little Alpine town to the heart of Paris during the ski season. And, as you might imagine, our little railway station was overflowing as the sixteen coach express glided along the platform. These winter weekends are the local staff's opportunity to put on their best, to shine.

Unlike Irish trains - where a two coach train will stop at the end of a platform designed for a twelve coach train, with the result that everyone gallops the length of the platform to board a train that's already half way to the next station - the TGV's number coaches line up alongside lettered segments of the platform - so coach 1 lines up with segment A - all designed to ensure speedy boarding.

However, this wonderfully simply idea is beyond the understanding of the local station staff! When David departed, we were informed, as the train arrived into the station, that coach 16 would arrive at segment A... the train was the wrong way around or, more to the point, the Station Staff had filled in the board backwards. Mayhem ensued. Families with little children ran the length of the platform only to be impeded by families with little children running the length of the platform in the opposite direction. And, while all this was going on, the Station Staff were screaming at people to get on the train... that they were delaying an on-time departure.

One week later, last Sunday, when I said goodbye to Louise at the same station, what do you think happened? Did they learn the error of their ways? As you might have guessed but scarcely believed, the whole furore was repeated... frantic parents, crying children, crashing luggage, screaming staff... And some people object to my describing normal people as crazy!