“Many of us have been running all our lives. Practice stopping.” -Thich Nhat Hanh

Have you noticed how we’re less and less present? We know about the importance of being present, and yet it seems we can’t do anything about it. Or maybe we don’t even realize we’re not. What can we do to be present, and what does it mean to be present?

Let’s begin by exploring what being present is not.

Being present is not being mindless—like mindlessly scrolling through social media. I see two ways to categorize mindless activities: the ones we choose, and those we drift into.

For instance, we might consciously choose to watch a movie, listen to music or a podcast, read an article. These choices can bring us joy, help us learn, make progress, or simply help us relax. But even when we intentionally choose these activities, they still pull us away from our immediate experience. However, sometimes our choices risk turning into vicious cycles, like binge watching.

The second kind is the unconscious drift. It happens all the time—when we’re on autopilot, daydreaming, on our phones, or flooded with obligations. We inevitably get lost in thought. On top of that, we’re vulnerable to sneaky systems designed to exploit our attention (and our privacy) online. These algorithms are constantly learning from our preferences to keep us endlessly absorbed. More often than not, we drift into this kind of mindlessness without even realizing it. And it’s never been easier.

Whether entertainment or distraction, intentional or accidental, both take us out of the present moment. Oftentimes mindlessness feels great and justified because we’re having fun or even learning something new. Other times it feels wrong, like we’re wasting time, postponing the inevitable, and avoiding what matters. But the key is recognizing that in either case, we’re not being here, we’re not being present.

What is it that makes being present so difficult?

Being present isn’t just about the meaningful moments. It’s about staying present during the challenging ones: the boring parts of our day, the uncomfortable to-dos that we postpone, and all the daily annoyances. Being present is taking it all in. That requires courage to face our feelings, humility to accept our wrongdoing, patience when we don’t get what we want, and peace when things aren’t going our way.

This is why we so often avoid being present. And avoidance isn’t just not doing—avoidance is also being very busy. Both doing too much and doing too little can be forms of avoidance. We avoid presence because staying comfortable, whether through busyness or inaction, feels easier than facing what’s actually right here.

Certainly, not all mindlessness is unhealthy. Being on autopilot is sometimes exactly what we need, especially when we’re sick, grieving, exhausted, or enjoying a moment of distraction. We don’t need to be mindful all the time.

Many of the problems that arise from escaping the present stem from the belief that unwanted feelings are bad. From an early age, we’ve been taught that mastery is being in control, and that good grades mean having all the answers. So that’s where many of us like to be: in an illusory state of control, peace, and mastery.

Not being present is being somewhere else—wherever that may be, and however we may want to justify it. Even when we’re surrounded by other people, at home or at work, everyone seems to be thinking about something else. What we really need is to find a way to bring ourselves back to where we are and who we’re with.

If we want to understand what being present is, I believe we need to practice bringing our mind and body back to where we are. As silly as this may sound, we can see why this matters: we may be physically here, but our minds are wandering elsewhere. Furthermore, what is the incentive to be present if we seem so happy in many of our mindless endeavors? Because we want to reclaim our lives, make time feel just a notch slower, and avoid letting our lives slip by while we remain absent from ourselves and those we love.

Let’s not be victims of “where has time gone?” Let’s notice life: how we’re evolving, how our children are growing up, the meaningful conversations we had today, and the moments when we slow down to enjoy a meal or a beverage. Let’s avoid missing the little moments that make up life. So what can we do? We can try:

• Beginning the day with a personal ritual to snap us back into being mindful.
• Reminding ourselves that emotions don’t define us. They guide us.
• Choosing to do what we know is right in moments of difficulty, even when it’s uncomfortable.
• Remembering that mastery does not mean the absence of problems.
• Realizing that peace isn’t necessarily being in control. It’s not needing to be.

Being present is allowing ourselves to experience the moments of our lives as they are. Of course, this doesn’t mean we should do nothing about what we want to change. We can be present in making the important changes we want to see, just not expecting it all to unfold exactly how we want to.

Imagine a life where we don’t need everything to go our way. Imagine not needing to feel perfect all the time. Wouldn’t that be a relief? We can try to trust that things will be okay despite what happens. We can try to trust our grit, resilience, and resourcefulness instead of needing everything to go exactly as planned.

Being present is being right where we are. It’s being grateful to be alive, paying attention to our breathing, and making a conscious effort to wander less during at least some parts of our day. It is enjoying what we love, and staying present even when we don’t feel like it. A former boss of mine used to ask us at the beginning (and during) meetings: “Are you here or are you somewhere else?”

Outside of work settings, we can ask ourselves: Are we here or are we on autopilot? These simple questions can guide us back. When someone is speaking, are we really listening, or are we thinking about our response? Do we ask questions we genuinely want to hear the answers to? Are we tasting our food or just feeding ourselves? Are we acknowledging the journey or only the finish line? We may always be physically here, but not really there. Instead of being mindless or, worse, performing presence, we need to practice it. Small checkpoints like these remind us where our attention actually is, when it matters.

Perhaps why being present is so hard is precisely because there’s no simple answer. But we can slowly change how we pay attention, learning to value the moments we’re actually living rather than our thoughts, distractions, or our need to share everything online to make it count. We can’t afford to be present all the time. But we can aim to be as present as possible, choosing to remain present when we’d rather be elsewhere. Being present is the ultimate form of being human. It restores value to our greatest asset—time. It shows us we can be wrong, live with a degree of uncertainty, and still allow life to unfold beyond our plans, finding peace regardless of the outcomes.