Staying in the present isn’t easy. Our minds drift toward the comfort of what has already happened - or the allure of what might yet come. We dream, we remember, we rehearse conversations that haven’t happened and replay ones that did. We are creatures of imagination as much as we are of experience. And so, we forget that we are living now. That life is unfolding in front of our eyes. To live in the present is to notice the forgetting - and to return.

One way I’ve begun to do this is through something I call grounding. When I notice my mind has wandered - whether to a memory or a fantasy - I pause. Then, I name the feeling: this is the past or this is the future. Finally, I bring the idea through time: what does this idea look like now? What did it look like in the past?

Here’s a real example. I was on a hike, so immersed in a vision of what could be, that I didn’t notice the warmth of the sun on my skin or the sound of birds in the distance. I was so gripped by the idea of a new possibility, it completely consumed me.

And then, I grounded myself.

I reframed the idea from the perspective of the past. I remembered a similar moment where this idea had the same sense of urgency, and how that moment played out. What happened to it? Did I act on it? It turns out, this was a recurring theme in my life. This wasn’t as new as I had thought it was.

Finally, I brought myself into the present. What was I doing at that moment to achieve the idea? What could I actually touch, see, or respond to, to make the imagination a reality?

And then, presence returned.

By relating the future/past to its representative in time, I was able to quantify it in a way I could better understand it. It didn’t dismiss my imagination (it actually flexed my ability to use it), nor did it invalidate the idea. It allowed me to relate to my distant thoughts rather than be carried away by them.

Through acts like grounding, of gently returning to the present, is where the work of presence begins.