Learning To Be Present

It is inevitable that we rehash the past, and understandable that we fantasize (and often stress) about the future. But the present is the only thing that really exists. When we spend our time thinking about the past and the future, we literally are missing the present.

Being present, for me, means being in my body. And being in my body means noticing the things my body has to tell me. That includes hunger, thirst, fatigue, and what position feels good. It means listening.

Learning to be present is a muscular action. It often means willfully redirecting the mind back to the present.

But… how?

May I suggest you start with the body, the storage facility for our lived experiences. Unpack the stored material by allowing your body to move, shed, speak, request, even demand and do the work, the challenging work to really listen.

I take several steps to listen to my body. Noticing my breath, my weight in a chair, listening to my footsteps, feeling my clothes against my skin, even becoming more aware of aches and pains, is a step closer to now. This is what is happening right now. And the beauty of it is: the body is always there for us to tune into. Trying to stop thinking about something without paying attention to something else is almost impossible. Instead of trying to empty the mind, I concentrate on filling the mind’s attention with sensation.

I notice how my breath moves my ribcage open and closed. I notice how my jaw feels, how my head rests on my spine. And, wonder of wonders, I no longer have enough bandwidth to worry about that conversation with my boss, or picking at an old wound.

Being present, for me, means being in my body. And being in my body means noticing the things my body has to tell me. That includes hunger, thirst, fatigue, and what position feels good. It means listening.

So, if you sit down and really listen to your body, what does it have to say right now?