A favorite pastime of mine—one I’ve come to know well—is living in the future.
I can spend hours drifting into what might happen later this afternoon, next week, three months from now, or even years ahead. I imagine where I might live in four years, what retirement could look like, where my children will be, and whether we’ll have grandchildren. I play out these scenarios in my head like a film on repeat, directing and producing a life that hasn’t happened yet—and may never unfold the way I imagine.
This habit of forecasting is something I now recognize as anticipatory anxiety. I get caught trying to find clarity in the fog of the unknown. The first time I heard the term future tripping was in early recovery. It described exactly what I was doing—spending mental and emotional energy on what could go wrong, what might happen, and all the fear that lives in those imagined futures.
And here's the paradox: The more I noticed how often I was in the future, the more I wondered if I was living at all.
Recovery taught me another phrase: Life on life’s terms. To me, that means life is meant to be lived as it unfolds—not imagined, not rehearsed, not feared. God didn't place us in yesterday or tomorrow. He meets us right here, right now. In this breath. In this moment.
One way I return to the present is by stopping everything I’m doing. I shut my eyes and bring all my attention to my body—the weight of its touch, whether I’m sitting or standing. I tune in to my breathing. I slow it all down. And I listen. I listen to the involuntary rhythm of life that God has placed within me. I picture Him beside me—no words, just presence. Like two friends watching the sunrise in silence. No striving, no analyzing. Just being. Fully immersed in the sacred now.
Sometimes, after I’ve stepped out of those future spirals, I smile and say to myself, “Well, that was some movie.” And that’s all it was—fiction.
Jesus speaks directly to this in Matthew 6:34 (NIV):
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
So I invite you, my brothers and sisters, to pay attention to your mind. How often are you mentally standing in a time that doesn’t exist yet? How often do you miss the gift of today because your heart is wandering in a world that isn’t real?
God’s grace is found in the present—not in the past we can’t change, nor the future we can’t control. Let us meet Him here.
Because this moment is the only one we truly have.
