Writer's Block Magazine

The first glimpse of summer was here, and I felt my life-force reviving. Sitting under a majestic tree, surrounded by beautiful blooming nature, a body of serene water close by, listening to the whispers of the wind and the sweet melodies carried by the birds, I smiled to myself, for I was whole again. I thought to myself: This is it. This is everything. Everything is right here at this very moment. But what exactly is ‘this’? Was it the freedom of doing nothing in that moment, or was it the sunshine on my skin, or the sense of stillness I had not felt in so long? Was it simply ‘this’ moment rather than ‘that’ moment? There must be something in ‘this’ moment, to make it special, to give me this sense of wholeness. But I realised, it must be that for the first time in a long time, I became aware of the Present. Not in a scary, wow-half-the-year-has-already-gone-by kind of awareness, but in a wow-I-am-slowing-down-and-realising-I-am-actually-alive kind of presence. And ‘this’ moment, and the presence I embodied in it, became extraordinary. It reminded me of the first time I encountered the feeling of true presence about two years ago. 

I sat cross-legged with high expectations on a yoga cushion in a wood-panelled attic with my friend, who invited me to join a course on mindfulness. To be honest, all I wanted back then was stress relief from my ongoing migraines. I was in the middle of a challenging first year of university, and I felt like there was never enough time for anything. I was constantly behind on classwork, my social life, personal development, fitness, mental health, reading and everything else I promised myself would bring me success and happiness. I was so concerned with what I had to do tomorrow and what I could have done yesterday that the words of the kind-eyed, Dutch, quietly-speaking woman in front of me felt blurry. I wanted immediate relief from pressure, from pain, from stress. But I did not find any of it there in that room with about 12 other students, all seemingly stressed or depressed. I was bored and agitated when she introduced us to body scans. I felt my mind more active than ever when I was supposed to concentrate on the feeling in my left big toe: I cannot feel anything, what am I supposed to feel? Air, socks? I don’t know if this is right, I mean I have so much to do, right after this I have class and I still have to do the dishes later and and and… 

I went to many more meetings, did many more body scans and felt even worse than before. Because now I was not only trying to distract myself from the pains in every moment, but I was actively focusing on the ways my body screamed at me. One, very fortunate, day I came in and sat down, expecting another five minutes focusing on my calf, when she started writing on a flip chart the two magical terms: being and doing. She asked us what the difference was between the two, and it clicked for me. I realised that doing, achieving, and working towards a goal had many different effects from being, resting, and considering. I realised, probably for the first time in my life, that I was alive, right in that very moment. I used to just do, whereby I let life pass me by without realising what I was doing, why I was doing it or who actually made the decisions. But in that moment, I took a step back, out of my head and realised: I was alive, I was breathing, and I had been for a long time. I became aware of life. This was my entry into the realms of mindfulness and spirituality. And while that whole journey is a story for another time, I will explain to you why the presence in the Present is probably our most important tool for living. 

Let me tell you something, right now, before we proceed any further. And I know this might upset you and send you into an existential crisis, but bear with me, okay? You do not own anything. Not a single thing on this planet belongs to you. No house, no car, no scratch of land, no person, no book, no animal, no sunset, nothing belongs to you. And you might think: but I own something! I have money, and with that money, I bought my xyz, and so it belongs to me; that is how society works. Well, sure, that is how society and law are organised in this tiny speck of life, but in the grand scheme of everything, society and belongings do not matter. Because if you die, which will happen (SHOCKER! I know), your belongings are no longer yours. Maybe they will be someone else’s, but only until they also die. This is not supposed to make you sad or throw you down a nihilistic spiral, but it is integral to understand this to realise why the Present matters. You do not own anything. No time, no air, no space. But, and yes, there is a but, and it is the most important but of all, you have ownership of yourself in this present moment. Time will pass, your money will come and go, your belongings will slip through your hands like mere smoke, the past is gone, the future will be the past, but you can claim one thing as your own. And that is the Present. Life’s Present, which brings us to Kung Fu Panda. 

I recently rewatched this amazing movie and had to pause after Master Oogway, an elderly tortoise who invented the masterful art of Kung Fu and also served Po the panda as a spiritual teacher, uttered the following words: 

‘Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.’ 

Perhaps, it is not Master Oogway who invented this saying, but in that moment, Master Oogway spoke directly to me. Because I understood that nothing matters but this present moment. I have spent years pondering past regrets and future fears, just to realise life was passing me by, and I got lost in quicksand. Every moment I was absent, lost in my mind, fighting my way through the thickets of memories and thoughts, I lost new moments of the Present, which gave me even more material to hold on to. That we own nothing but the Present is not a novel thought, of course, but our sense of reality is so diluted by the materialistic lie that owning more means success that we seem to forget what matters. The Internet gives us a false sense of reality, and while we feel like we are experiencing something because we watch other people do things, our presence and time are lost. We would rather ignore the fact that we are alive in every moment of the Present because it leaves us the responsibility to live. We are handed a free ticket to rein our lives, but because we are scared of this heavy duty (because what if we fail to meet our expectations?), we would rather stick our heads in the sand. We neglect our responsibility, insisting that we didn’t pursue our dreams because we didn’t have the means to in the Present, because we were busy watching… what exactly? 

I think many of us are scared. Scared of the present, of taking responsibility for living, becoming aware because it means sitting with yourself in every single moment. Sitting with yourself in silence. Listening to your own thoughts, with no distraction, no goal to achieve, nowhere to be. And that can feel scary. When I sat in the attic, realising that there is a need for time of being, I thought I had found the solution. I will just go home, sit down and think of my presence in the Present. But when I sat down, in silence, wanting to acknowledge the Present, waiting for something to happen, for enlightenment, relief, applause, rest, cure, I was terrified because nothing happened. I sat there, in silence with myself and thought: and now? 

If this had been the end of the story, I would not be writing this. I was terrified, yes, of being with myself in silence. And so I went back to distraction and dissociation to cure my need for vitality. But this did not work, and time and time again, I was reminded of the word: being. I didn’t know what to do, but the thing is, you simply do not. No doing will get you into the being. You own nothing but the present moment and yourself in it, and if you do not realise this now, you will get stuck looking for peace in the past or future, which you will never reach. The past is done, and the future is gonna be the future, no matter how hard you try to imagine yourself being in it or fearing it coming towards you. The only thing that is real is the Present and you can lead your life only through one gate: The Present. Otherwise, you’ll get stuck trying to open the door to time which has already passed. 

I have come to realise that our bodies are mere vessels for life, time and energy to move through. Everything is changing, all of the time. And so every moment passes us, either in presence or absence. All of us have a choice to make. You can make your choice right now, and every moment you experience is a new opportunity for presence. You can choose the Present in every present moment. This first period of struggle, when you sit with yourself in the Present, just being, is difficult. But it is a wonderful sign to feel this resistance, as it means you have embarked on a path your brain has not tread on before. The most beautiful thing I have learned over the past two years is that being in the Present is not an object to acquire, but a skill to learn. And the more you tread, the easier it will be to run. Every novel thing you try will take a while to adjust to. But once you have adjusted to the sensation of being present (which you might not have felt your entire life), the more beautiful is the sense of peace you gain from it. 

When I choose the Present, I feel myself alive, breathing, living. And I am proud to be. Because I know that nothing matters but this present moment. Nothing will matter but the Present. And I can choose happiness, peace, kindness or love in every present moment. You can design your life and live it peacefully just by your mere presence. Everything feels so much more intense and valuable when you choose to acknowledge it and its fleeting nature. The beautiful moments of love and peace will feel extraordinary when you realise that they are uniquely crafted in the Present. And every moment of sadness or grief can be felt and overcome with the knowledge that it will pass and that you can only know light after having been in the dark. If you dare to let go of doing every once in a while, you will arrive at being. And that is, as I have learned, what life is all about. 

Wherever you are right now, can you take a moment to be present in the Present? 

Written by Pia Jung

Picture taken by myself (Pia Jung) showing my family’s dog (Bruno) catching some air out of a car window.