The Day I Chose to Be Here
The night before had been restless. I woke groggy, phone buzzing on the nightstand. My first reflex was to scroll. Instead, I set the phone down and pulled on my shoes. The morning air was cool, the street damp from last night’s rain.
I walked quickly at first, mind already racing. My body was on the street, but my thoughts were in the inbox, the schedule, the unfinished list.
Then a sound cut through. A bird, sharp against the quiet. I stopped. Looked up. The sky opened wide, streaked with pale blue and orange. It felt unplanned, yet exact. As if the world had been waiting for me to notice.
That was the first return.
The Pull of Distraction
Distraction is not always loud. Sometimes it hums just beneath awareness, tugging you away from yourself.
Halfway down the block, my phone vibrated again. I reached for it, then paused. I asked, What am I choosing right now.
The answer was clear. Not the message. The moment.
I let the phone buzz unanswered and kept walking. That was the second return.
A Missed Return
Years ago, I sat at my grandmother’s kitchen table. She was telling a story I had heard before. I nodded politely, half listening, already planning the next day.
That night, she died in her sleep.
Her story ended mid sentence, and I never heard it fully. The memory presses on me still, not with guilt, but with clarity. Presence is not about productivity. It is about people.
That was the return I missed.
The Cost of Absence
Indecision wastes time. Distraction wastes life.
When I am absent, the cost is not just lost minutes. It is moments I will not get back. A wave from a neighbor. A question from a child. A story that dies with the one who carried it.
Presence is not optional. It is the ground we either stand on or pass by.
Where Presence Lives
Presence does not wait for life to slow down. It is chosen in the middle of noise. It begins with the body, with breath, with the senses.
The bird overhead. The air in your lungs. The person beside you.
The world will not stop for you to notice it. You stop, and the world opens.
A Living Practice
Later that same day, I tested myself. Each time my phone buzzed, I asked, Is this more important than the moment I am in.
Most of the time, it was not. And when it was, I could feel the difference. Presence is not ignoring life. It is choosing it with care.
By evening, I felt lighter. My schedule had not changed, but I was no longer leaving myself behind.
The Spiritual Layer
Presence is more than practice. It is prayer without words.
When you return to the moment, you step into alignment. Call it spirit, call it flow, call it life. Whatever the name, the effect is the same. You belong here.
Each return is not failure. It is faithfulness. Each pause is not wasted. It is a doorway.
What I Am Saying…
The day I chose to be here was not about the walk. It was about remembering what is real.
Distraction will always wait for you, whispering that you are behind, unfinished, not enough. Guidance is quieter. It waits inside your breath, asking you to notice.
What I am saying is simple. The world does not need more of you scattered. It needs more of you present. Step back into this moment. Look up. Listen. Let yourself arrive. That is where life happens.
