On Being Here Now: A Gentle Reminder
Sitting by the Bay on a Gray and Somber Day
You know those times when you fall into existential crisis; you’re wondering who you are, what your purpose is, why you still feel so unfulfilled; you struggle to figure out—for the umpteenth time—what you can do differently to finally find yourself and fulfill your destiny?
I have learned a pretty simple technique that helps pull me back into some sense of stability. Ram Dass popularized the perfect phrase for this approach: “Be Here Now.”
I simply stop and focus on what is. I notice my gentle breathing. I notice what’s around me right now; in this case, the steering wheel of my truck, the dusty dashboard, the view of Barnstable Harbor, where I’m parked drinking my coffee and dictating these thoughts. I notice things that you wouldn’t think to notice, like the pressure of gravity pushing me down into my seat, the seemingly empty space between me and whatever I see in the distance, the colors and shapes of things, the singing birds, the direction in which the seaweed is flowing. Whatever noises I hear—the radio, the traffic on the road behind me, a distant train horn, some fishermen unloading a boat—actually enter this quiet, empty, peaceful, still place without ruining it; they enter for a visit and the quiet still exists.
The place all things enter is called Now.
And I find that my agitated mind has begun to settle down. And I realize that nothing really needs to change. Things as they are right now are really quite acceptable. It was only my storytelling mind that had me believing that my life was unsatisfactory. In fact, when I take the time to be totally present to the here and now, I realize how much good stuff I was missing by furiously chasing after dreams of other.
It’s an addiction, really. An addiction to what is not. And like any addiction, it requires some intent, some discipline, and some help to identify and understand, and gradually, with some stops and starts and bumps and forgetfulness, to begin to overcome.
This technique—being here now—is available to everyone, at all times, and it’s quite powerful and effective. I strongly recommend it.
DB 😊💚
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I love this. The way you describe it, Now isn’t just a place—it’s a portal. And most of us are out here sprinting toward imaginary futures like there’s a prize for being the most spiritually dehydrated. Thank you for reminding us that the real treasure is buried right under our butt in the car seat. Presence is underrated. Delusion is just louder.
Don, another really beautiful post. "Be here now." Yes. I found myself increasingly agitated and stressed during the entire month of May, for many reasons beyond my control (lots of end of the school year kid stuff), which led me to feeling out of myself. Out of here. Out of now.
So a few days ago when I was interviewed on a podcast, the host asked me what I would like to conclude with for midlife moms who are part of this "sandwich" generation of raising young kids while also caring for aging parents. I said this: "Show up today with a good heart, and respond to the moment you find yourself in."
The latter part of my message was centered around something I remember when I find that I'm slipping into worry or fear. I just look around me and ask, "What is this moment telling me?" Sometimes it's nothing. Sometimes it's to appreciate, to receive. And sometimes it inspires me to act. But to me, being here now is about receptivity and openness--allowing myself to simply be, without agenda or plans. Just to be. What a lovely way to live!