“This now is so fresh, there's no history of now”… Mooji
Practicing presence is just that—practicing. After decades of living anywhere but here, it doesn’t just click overnight. It’s a slow turning… a returning.
If you’re anything like me, there’s an addiction to planning, to time, to the next thing on the calendar. I’ve lived moments in my mind hundreds of times before they ever arrive. Playing them out, adjusting, preparing—trying, in some quiet way, to control what hasn’t even happened.
So here’s what I’ve been doing. When my mind drifts to later—this afternoon, tomorrow, next week—I pause and say silently, “You are here.” Not forcefully, just a gentle reminder. A call back home.
Because living anywhere other than now creates this subtle tension… a low-grade stress rooted in control. I’ve even noticed myself avoiding commitments altogether—keeping my calendar light, not out of freedom, but out of resistance. As if not deciding protects me. As if not planning keeps me safe.
It’s strange when you see it clearly. This quiet attempt to stay unbound—don’t box me in, don’t give me something in the future—yet all the while, I’m still not free. Just tethered in a different way.
And maybe that’s the realization:
Freedom isn’t found in avoiding the future…
It’s found in not leaving the present.
Scripture brings this home in a way that cuts through all the noise:
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” — Matthew 6:34
And even more simply:
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
The invitation isn’t to figure everything out… it’s to be here. Fully. Now. Where God already is.
Closing Prayer
Lord, bring me back to this moment.
Quiet the pull of my thoughts and the need to control what hasn’t come.
Teach me to rest in Your presence, here and now.
Let me trust that You are already in every moment ahead.
Amen.
