Being Present in the Present
A tornado tore through our neighborhood a year ago today, causing major destruction to several apartments, homes and local businesses just down the street from our house. And just a few days later, the whole world turned upside down as the coronavirus pandemic began to spread at a rapid pace and life as we knew it came to a screeching halt. These sorts of “anniversaries” cause me to reflect and remember events of the past — but I didn’t need an anniversary to do that this time around.
For the last several weeks, I’ve been fixated on the past, as I’ve started the long process of finally working through some traumatic events that happened to me in 2013 and 2014 (with the help of a therapist). Long story short: within a handful of months, my parents’ marriage ended, some other weird things surrounding that happened, and I ended a serious relationship (I don’t recommend doing that when all your friends are mutual friends with that person at a small Christian school). So, I graduated college with a broken family and a questionable social life — and a degree! But I did what I do best: I withdrew — and moved to the mountains.
And in the same breath, I’ve been fixated on the future as of late. I am continually looking forward to the next stage. Visualizing what life will look like when ___________. And considering my current subpar stage of life as simply a stepping stone or the “preface” for my life’s true Chapter 1. In this pre-planning stage, there’s anxiety about the unknown, there’s impatience about the timing of events, there’s comparison with and envy towards those in that “next stage,” and there’s discontentment with my everyday life. Not to mention, it’s nearly impossible to put forth any effort towards the present life when it has been deemed merely the precursor for a fully realized future life. Because why would I waste all my energy on this pilot episode?
Don’t get me wrong — I used to have all of this present-mindedness “mastered.” That was back when my biggest concerns were the dumb thing I said in front of my crush in the cafeteria and my Spanish test coming up next week. But then? Life happened. Relationships got more complicated, responsibilities got weightier, and life got more complex.
So here’s the thing. I’m not here to display my innermost grievances and shortcomings to garner sympathy or pity. Not at all. I’m here to discuss something we all know but may have forgotten as life has gone on (because I sure have!). And mostly, I hope this might encourage you if you find yourself living in either the past or the future — or find yourself awkwardly straddling the two, as I have.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that: True joy is found when you’re living in the present.
Alright, cue the “Live, Laugh, Love” jokes.
But really! When I am fully present in any given moment, I have neither the time nor the energy to ruminate on the past or fear the possibilities of the future. And to take it a step further, when I’m fully present in the present, I’m usually not thinking about myself at all (or at least as much). I suddenly have the capacity to focus on other people, as I am not taking up mind or heart space for my insecurities about the past or uncertainties about the future (which, spoiler alert: have 100% to do with me, and me alone).
And when you really think about it, the present is the only “time zone” that even exists at all.
"The past exists only in our memories, the future only in our plans. The present is our only reality." — Robert M. Pirsig
“Live in the Present” doesn’t have to be reserved as a lame blanket statement you see crocheted on a pillow at Grandma’s house. Living in the present means going on a phone-free walk with a friend. It means reading a novel by the fire. It means baking cookies from scratch. It means laughing until your stomach hurts. It means drinking a bottle of wine with friends. It means watching the sunrise or the sunset.
And lately, for me, it’s looked like a few deeper things as well:
Forgiving past hurts — realizing what happened wasn’t my fault, but it’s my fault for holding onto it all this time. Coming to terms that I’ll never get to tell “my side” to the story, but that’s okay. Forgiving someone is less about releasing them and more about releasing you, from bitterness, anger, and other emotions that keep you from living your life to the fullest.
Not worrying about tomorrow — putting the timeline and events of my life completely in God’s hands. Looking back at my story up until this point gives me confidence in the unknown steps ahead. This one’s easier said than done, but Matthew 6:25-34 always helps put things in perspective.
Taking delight in the small, simple joys — acknowledging even the micro pleasures of life, like a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, pretty flowers in the neighborhood, and a new song you can’t stop repeating. Sometimes I just start with taking a deep breath and thanking God for oxygen. Or listing off all the random things I’m thankful for, from running water to Schitt’s Creek.
I can’t help but draw the conclusion that a major source of worry about both the past and the future originates — or at least is triggered by — our phones. Our phones are often the vehicles that transport us to anywhere but the present. On the surface, they steal our attention from the current moment we’re in, as we miss the life right in front of us while we’re sucked into a digital reality. And taken a step further, social media is packed with reminders from our past, like people you’re still connected to from a certain time period in your life, and even old photos that pop up from a painful time. Social media can also induce anxiety about the future, as we are targeted with ads that promote scarcity and bombarded with photos of friends and strangers who seemingly have it all. Setting boundaries with our phones is a huge step in staying grounded in the present.
All this introspection must have something to do with the fact that I’m turning 29 in a couple of weeks. There’s something about a birthday that forces you to evaluate your life thus far and have a surge of uncertainty about the years ahead. But not this time. This year, I’m choosing contentment. And enoughness. And gratitude — yes, for all the goodness leading up to that day and the goodness to come — but also for the things I have right in front of me: a husband, a dog, a family, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food in the fridge. All present realities that I don’t take for granted.
Because gratitude is the key to a present-focused life.
"Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." — Melody Beattie
If Brené Brown has taught me anything — and she has taught me a lot — it’s that vulnerability has immense power. And this feels vulnerable, so that must mean something.
I hope this helps align your heart and mind with the present. If you’re stuck in a time machine somewhere back in 2010 or out there in 2025, then come back to the current time zone. And take a deep breath. Then acknowledge and take inventory of the sights, smells and noises around you. It’s okay — the present moment is quite alright. And it’s all we have.
DISCLAIMER: I want to be clear that sometimes it is necessary to work through some issues from the past, especially traumatic events (like I’m doing right now). There’s a difference between healthy processing and unnecessary dwelling.