"If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is to be present in the present. Gratefully."
Maya Angelou
Presence is this moment. It is your awareness of this moment. It is here now, as you are here now.
Technology, news cycles, and the constant bombardment of information at our fingertips can move our attention from our lived experience. What helps us get back into the moment? Back to what matters? Back to what we can hold?
Conversations with the people around us, running an errand for a neighbor in need, going outside and taking a walk in nature, and letting discomfort reveal the growth that is needed—these are all tangible ways to be present in the moment.
This moment is the only one we can fully engage. Our attention is prone to wandering into the future and past, and when we bring it back to what is real, true, and tangible—where we currently are—we practice presence.
Some of us learned to disconnect from the present in order to protect ourselves. If what is happening around us is (or feels) dangerous or chaotic, we might go into a fight, flight, or freeze state. Sometimes, as we move on from those triggers, our bodies don’t. It’s important to recognize where we need systems of support to help us feel safe enough to be—and stay—present.
Practicing presence doesn’t mean we have to feel overwhelmed by what surrounds us. It doesn’t mean sacrificing our autonomy or safety. It is within containers of care that we can practice presence most effectively.
There are many avenues we could explore when it comes to putting this into action. We could hone in on tools that help us ground in the moment—mindfulness, gratitude, moving our bodies, deep breathing, connecting with nature, and deep listening.
For this month, though, we are going to focus on what it means to practice presence as we bear witness, navigate discomfort, hold the tension of both/ands, and choose connection over isolation.
The only way to truly learn something is to practice it. We can read as much as we want, admire those who are strong in ways we hope to be, and dream about what is possible, but without practice, we will not grow in our ability. Intellectual understanding is not enough. Practice is where the change happens. Presence is where the growth is.
If you read this and are exhausted at the thought, please know, practice does not mean what you were conditioned to do in systems of high control or strict expectation. You do not have to practice presence for hours a day (or you’re a failure!) or even every day. There is no comparison at all—no measuring against others to know whether you’re doing it right or not.
If you need less pressure to perform, welcome! Me too! If you need more permission to practice softly, in micro-moments of discovery, curiosity, and play, consider this your encouragement to do just that. Everything you read here is a suggestion, not a dictation of what needs to be done.
Ultimately, you know what is best for you. You know your body best, and you can trust your instincts.
Here is where I’ll throw in a gentle invitation.
Discomfort is not the same thing as suffering. It’s not the same thing as powerlessness. It doesn’t mean danger. Discomfort isn’t a bad thing. It reveals where our edges are.
My relationship to discomfort is changing, and I am learning to navigate those edges with presence. I don’t want to pull back into a place of comfort any longer, but if that is what you need in this season, please do it. Trust that you will know when it is time to push through and when it is time to ease back. In the meantime, get familiar with those edges. See what supports you might need to help you as you do lean in.
There is power in presence, and there is agency for you to choose what to do with it.
If we’re waiting to engage when all the right requirements are there—a sense of satisfaction with our jobs, perfect relationships (ha!), all needs eradicated and challenges ceased—we’ll be waiting a lifetime. There will always be variables that we can’t control. We can only do the best with what we have when we have it.
In a world that pulls us away from ourselves—distracting us by moving our attention to things outside of our control—how, then, do we regain a sense of grounded strength?
We reclaim our energy and our attention. We learn to bear witness—watching and listening to what is happening without diminishing or controlling the narrative. We learn to hold the tensions of life with a loosened grasp. We prioritize connection—to the world, to each other, and to life as a whole—rather than isolation.
We practice. Until it’s natural. Until it’s in us. Without pressure, but with intention to strengthen our ability to be right where we are. And we keep showing up.
How often do you feel present to what you are doing or who you are with?
Do you struggle to keep your mind from jumping into the future or reliving the past?
Consider the things that make you feel fully alive (AKA present) and in the moment. What are they?