Presence as a Practice

What does it mean to be present?

It sounds simple enough: to be here, in this moment, aware of what is happening within us and around us. Yet many of us spend much of our lives somewhere else.

Our minds return to conversations that have already happened. We replay decisions, revisit memories, and imagine how things could have unfolded differently. At other times, we move ahead of ourselves—planning, anticipating, rehearsing, worrying, and attempting to prepare for what has not yet arrived.

In this way, many of us live somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow.

Presence is the practice of returning to here. To the present moment.

It can be as simple as noticing the chair beneath us, the air entering our lungs, the sounds in the room - like children laughing or crying, or the feeling of our feet meeting the ground or our toes wiggling in our shoes. It’s recognizing what is happening inside us without immediately needing to explain it, escape it, change it, or judge it. It’s just noticing.

Presence does not require us to abandon the past or stop imagining the future. Both memory and foresight are important parts of being human. Presence simply helps us recognize when we have drifted away—and reminds us to come back and recentre. 

Presence as a relationship.

We often think of presence as something we do or need to do.

 “I need to be more present”

We meditate. We practise breathing exercises. We put down our phones. We take a walk or intentionally focus on our surroundings. These can all help us become more present but presence is not just an activity.

It’s also a relationship we cultivate. It’s a practice.

Presence allows us to build a relationship with our bodies by noticing signals before they become overwhelming. It invites us to listen to our thoughts without automatically believing every one of them.

Because we are not our thoughts and our thoughts are not facts. 

Presence helps us become more familiar with our emotions, needs, limits, and longings.

It helps us to become more familiar with ourselves and how we are currently in relationship to the world around us.

It changes how we relate to other people

To be present with someone is not necessarily to solve their problem or find the perfect thing to say.  Presence is not about perfection. Often, it means listening with genuine attention.  It means becoming curious about or just sitting with another person's experience rather than preparing our response while they are still speaking.

Presence can communicate something simple but deeply meaningful:

I am here. I am listening. You do not have to move through this moment alone. 

That’s it. 

The same is true of the relationship we have with ourselves. When we become more present, we begin to offer ourselves that same quality of attention and we begin to learn how to show up for ourselves and how to hold space for ourselves.

Presence as a Way of Knowing

Perhaps presence is humanity's oldest teacher.

Long before books, classrooms, and the internet, knowledge emerged through careful observation.  People watched the movement of the stars, the changing seasons, the migration of animals, the properties of plants, and the rhythms of the human body.

They noticed when certain plants appeared, when rivers rose, when animals changed their behaviour, and when the days began to lengthen or shorten. Knowledge developed through attention, repetition, relationship, and curiosity.

Presence was not simply calming. It was a way of learning and being in relationship with the natural world.

Many ancient systems of knowledge arose from sustained attention to patterns. People learned by living in relationship with the land, the sky, their communities, and their own bodies. Their understanding was not necessarily separate from daily life. It was shaped through participation in the world around them.

There is something meaningful in remembering this.

Wisdom does not always arrive through acquiring more information. Often, it develops by staying with something long enough to truly notice it.

A butterfly resting on a flower in our garden

The Modern Challenge

Today, we have access to more information than previous generations could have imagined. Answers, opinions, images, and explanations are available almost instantly.

Yet having access to information is not the same as paying attention.

We may consume enormous amounts of content while having very little space to observe our own experience or having very little space to decide how we want to meet this information and whether we even want to receive it. We often move quickly from one idea to the next without having time to reflect on what we actually think or feel.

Curiosity can gradually be replaced by certainty, distraction, or urgency.

Instead of asking, What am I noticing? we may immediately search for someone else to tell us what something means.

Instead of sitting with discomfort, we may reach for stimulation.

Instead of listening to the quieter signals of the body, we may continue moving until those signals become impossible to ignore.

This is not a personal failure. Our attention is constantly being invited, interrupted, and divided. Modern life often rewards speed, productivity, and immediate response.

Presence asks us to move differently - and the fact that it’s something that takes practice…is why it's referred to as a "practice".

Practicing how to pause long enough to notice what is already here.

Returning to Ourselves

The quality of attention our ancestors brought to the natural world can also be practiced inward.

We can become curious about the seasons within us—the times when we feel energetic and outward-facing, and the times when we need quiet, reflection, or rest.

We can notice the patterns that repeat in our relationships. We can observe which environments help us soften and which ones cause us to brace. We can pay attention to the sensations that accompany a yes, a no, a fear, or a longing.

This kind of attention is not about endlessly analyzing ourselves.

It is about learning to witness our experience without immediately trying to correct it or even have an opinion on it  - it’s acceptance and surrender. 

We might notice:

My breathing becomes shallow when I feel rushed.

I tend to disconnect from my body when I am overwhelmed.

I feel more like myself after spending time outside.

I am tired, but I keep telling myself that I should be doing more.

These observations may seem small, but they help build a relationship with the self - and they can create profound changes.

Awareness gives us more choice. When we can recognize what is happening, we are better able to respond intentionally rather than moving automatically through familiar patterns.

Attention is a huge part of presence, but it’s not the full picture. Presence is a way of inhabiting our lives. To be present can be simply noticing what is happening around us, but it is also that next step to become aware of what is happening within us—our breath, our bodies, our emotions, and our experience of this moment and being able to accept that in the moment.

This is often what I think of as embodiment: the practice of allowing ourselves to fully arrive in our own lives.

That being said, presence does not always make an experience more comfortable. For some people, returning to the present moment feels calming.  For others, it can feel really uncomfortable—or even overwhelming. This is especially true for those who have lived through trauma. When the nervous system has learned that the world is unsafe, slowing down and becoming more aware of the present isn't always experienced as peaceful.

Sometimes, it is the very thing that brings long-held emotions, sensations, or memories into awareness.

This is one of the reasons counselling can be so valuable. Healing isn't about forcing ourselves to "just be present." It is about creating enough safety, both within ourselves and within a therapeutic relationship, that we can gradually become more present without feeling overwhelmed. 

Presence, in this sense, becomes something we build together.

Sometimes becoming present means noticing grief, exhaustion, anger, or uncertainty that we have been avoiding.  But it also allows us to notice beauty, warmth, pleasure, connection, and moments of genuine enoughness.

We cannot selectively numb ourselves to discomfort without also becoming less available to the rest of our lives.

What It Means to Have A Practice

A practice is not something we perfect. It is something we return to and, well…practice.

This is an important distinction because presence is often misunderstood as a state we should be able to maintain. We may imagine that being present means having a quiet mind, feeling calm, or remaining fully aware at all times.

But minds wander.  Attention shifts.  We think to the future and plan things and that’s perfectly normal and healthy.  Life also becomes busy. Old memories surface, and thoughts move toward what needs to happen next.

The purpose of the practice is not to prevent ourselves from ever leaving the moment.

The practice is noticing that we have left—and then being able to gently return.

The "drift", then, becomes part of the practice. 

Presence may look like taking one conscious breath before answering a difficult question.

It may mean stepping outside and noticing the temperature of the air.

It may involve putting a hand over the heart or abdomen and asking, What is happening inside me right now?

It may be listening to a person without rushing to advise them.

It may be eating without multitasking, noticing the transition between seasons, or allowing a quiet moment to remain quiet.

A practice becomes meaningful through repetition, not intensity.

Even three to five minutes of genuine attention may be more restorative than forcing ourselves through a long meditation that we resent. Presence can be woven into ordinary life rather than reserved for ideal conditions.

We do not need to leave our lives in order to become present within them. 

Presence is meant to help us connect with our lives more deeply just as it is. 

An Invitation

Presence is not about achieving a perfectly quiet mind.

It is not about ignoring the past, refusing to plan for the future, or remaining calm in every situation.

It is the ongoing practice of returning to the place where life is actually happening.

Here.

In this breath.

In this body.

In this conversation.

In the world that is quietly unfolding around us.

This moment may not contain everything we want, and it may not always feel comfortable. But it is the only place from which we can listen, choose, connect, respond, be authentic and begin again.

Presence is not something we have to master.

It is simply a relationship we are always being invited to return to.

Thank you for embarking on this journey with me on Presence.

If you'd like to explore these ideas more deeply, I invite you to visit my YouTube channel, where you'll find guided meditations, mindfulness practices, and Yoga Nidra sessions designed to help you slow down, reconnect with yourself, and cultivate presence in everyday life. 

Explore more free resources, guided meditations, and reflections on my website. 

Wishing you peace - and presence, until we meet again,

Tamara