top of page

PRESENCE



To be present feels like life, alive-ness if you prefer.  To feel the rain on your face and really feel it.  To see the sun bouncing off a creek through the trees, and really see it. To feel a wave a grief and let it happen. When I am really present, the rain feels cold, but not irritating.  It feels like refreshing life.  When I am really present, squinting my eyes is not annoying.  It is a source of joy in the dance of light.  And grief may shake me to my core as it reminds me of my depths and of love.


Of course I am not present all the time. Sometimes the cold is miserable, and the sun is blindingly painful. The grief scary and consuming. Yup, I'm human too. And - staying present with the more difficult emotions can be, well, difficult.


It’s so easy to wall off emotions in favor of “getting the job done”.  Or dismissing them as "in the way", or painful. Inconvenient. We use distractions of so many kinds to numb ourselves to the really challenging emotions. We develop behaviors and defenses to prevent ourselves from feeling, really feeling. Yet it is the noticing, the feeling, that feels awakens our lives and alerts us to patterns that might need to change, wounds that might be ready to heal.


How do we maintain this "PRESENCE"? How do we cultivate it?


I got to walk with my good friend out in the woods today.  We talked about living and the importance of feeling joy, even in the midst of pain, loss, discomfort. And of course, we were TALKING and not really NOTICING what was around us.   Then my friend stopped and reflected how happy she was to be out in the woods even though her back was hurting and her feet were cold and damp.  Rather than let discomfort cloud the experience, my friend, who has experienced deep loss, chose to stop and notice both the discomfort AND the beauty all around. I can feel my body relax right now, recalling the moment as we were looking over the ferns through the trees, feeling the aches and pains of old injuries and getting older without resentment,  breathing in the cool damp air, as we stopped conversing so that we could take it all in silently. There's a sense of calm, of depth, and of stillness and possibility without urgency. And in that silence emotions arose - deep grief for our losses, gratitude for being there together, and laughter that we felt both.  I am so glad to have that moment because it is there in the space that we get to experience the mystery of life.  


But that capacity - to feel both - is the product of work. Breaking an emotional sweat so to speak. I had to turn towards some difficult material in my life, to face it, feel it.


REALLY feel the "yuck" in order to hold the pain as pain rather than fall back on contorted behavioral strategies I developed to avoid it.


It took time. An almost embarrassing amount of time. It's not done yet. But in doing so, I have been able to feel belonging, peace and contentment.


The impact for me has been mostly around a sense of being satisfied and contained, like I’m not constantly grasping for something else, something different.  I don’t need more things (actually, less would be great).  I'm also less defensive - I don’t need as much external validation (yes, I’m still a work in progress).  I accept myself and others with less judgment.  I’m ok if I don’t complete everything on my “list”.  I listen better and sleep better.


Is it perfect - Are you kidding me? Can we be like present all the time?  Probably not.  There are real tasks that need doing, real concerns and worries, very real stressors out there.  And habits and feelings, and big things in the world and big things in life...and and and.... BUT - when I get to practice mindfulness - PRESENCE - I feel so much more ease.


Here’s a Poem that speaks to some of this. Some practices are listed below. We won't be perfect. We won't walk on clouds. And that's ok. We can just notice when we notice and be content with just that.


(For those of you who don’t know, Rumi is/was a 13th century Persian poet from modern day Iran, whose words ring truth through the centuries.  It’s sort of wonderful to know that the concerns people 700 years ago struggled over are not so different from the now).


The Guest House by Rumi


This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.


A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.


Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.


The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

Meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.


Be grateful for whatever comes.

Because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.


If we ignore the here and now - the feelings, the sensation that we are met with each day, each hour, each minute, we miss out on so much.  We miss out on knowing ourselves.  We miss out on information that we might need.  We miss out on all the feelings and all the sensations.  And isn’t that what it is to be alive? 

 

Be here now, my friends.   

Notice.  

Feel what is in front of you, right now. 

No matter how simple, how mundane.

It is most likely miraculous.



PRACTICES:


Sometimes we struggle to stay present.  Sometimes there is too much pain, too much burden, too much fatigue, too much to do.  Emotions are too deep. The clouds come in. Distractions. I know.  I've been there too.  

 

Here are a few practices that might help at those times:


Any time:


Find an object.  Anything will do but it helps if you like it. 

Set a timer for 1 minute.  Notice everything you can about that object. Every detail. 

Then pause and notice whatever sensations arise.  Write a few words about the sensations.  Wait a minute, then do it again with another object. 

Maybe try one more time.  Notice what it feels like just to notice. 


At the beginning of the day:


Find a peaceful place to sit.

Set a timer for 2 minutes.

Close your eyes and notice the sounds around you. Just the sounds.


On another day just notice the sensations on your skin.


On another day, notice the scents.


And on another day, just sit.  

When thoughts come through, call them thoughts and let them go,


At the End of the Day: (Ideally, with a journal)


Reflect back on the day.

Notice the time that you recall feeling present.

Recall what was happening and any emotions that accompanied the moment (s).

Reflect on what it is like to recall and notice these moments.


14 views

Comments


bottom of page