The Art of Being Present

At a screening of my film, Caring for Dying: the art of being present, there was a discussion on, well, the art of being present. When asked how one goes about "being present," the people in my audience had no ready answers. Yet, when I asked them to take a moment and check in with themselves, they quietly closed their eyes and looked inside. Perhaps they thought I was asking for something more esoteric. But no, being present is as simple as checking in with your self. Take a moment to look inside, feel your body, observe your feelings.

The problem is, we forget to do it. We don’t check in. We’re too busy, too worried, too uncomfortable and maybe too afraid. Afraid? Yes, I think so. Ever notice how uncomfortable people are with long silences or with having too much time on their hands? Don’t you take a book or magazine along when you expect to wait somewhere? We are afraid to look inside, afraid of what we might find, of what we are really feeling. That we really hate what we are doing, or we’ve screwed up or wasted our lives, or we are bored with our partner, tired of our children, unsure where we’re headed and we’re angry, pissed, sad, or just plain unhappy. Whoa, let’s not go there! Turn on the TV, call someone on your cell phone, clean the refrigerator. The irony is that there is really no fear in the present. There is no judgment, no shame, no blame. There is just -- presence. However (and there always is a however) to get there you might have to tamp down a lot of negative mind-noise first, a lot of internal ugly, judgmental monologue.

Eckart Tolle, the guru of the "present" and author of The New Earth and The Power of the Now, calls that mean, negative internal voice “the ego.” This is not the positive ego of “self esteem” fame, but closer to that “Whew, that guy’s got one big ego!” kind of ego. And, while we’re pointing a finger, be aware that we all have big egos, only they rarely make us feel big and important. Mostly they tear us down. And if they do build us up, tomorrow it will be down. Bet you that guy with the “big ego” is constantly being blasted by his, that’s why he’s so desperate to convince you and everyone else what a hotshot he is.

I like Tolle’s use of the term “ego” because it is the same word my Sufi teacher uses to refer to the “negative self.” -- the self that tries to sabotage all my efforts to hang out with my spiritual self. I already know a lot about this ego self. It’s what makes us worry about how we appear to others or how we measure up to some internalized value system of achievement. It is the voice that makes us uneasy and stressed. A low level hum of disquiet, “What did I forget?” “Please don’t let me screw this up!” “Oh God, I can’t believe I did that!” We run from this voice by staying busy, watching TV, drinking, eating or doing drugs -- anything to numb or dull the voice. But it never really goes away. It’s always in the background nipping at our heels.

The only real escape from the ego is to see it for what it is, to name it, recognize it and in doing so, to enter the moment. It’s my ego that’s making me feel bummed about the funding grant I didn't get for my film (that I didn’t have a snowballs chance in hell of getting any way.) Hi, Ego! Sounds easy. It is and it’s not. The ego is very strong, wily, willful beast that will not give up without a fight. The ego wants to be in control. I like this idea of an ego beast. The ego as something separate from ourselves. Years ago when I was working on my Ph.D thesis and getting booted out of my first teaching job I drew a picture of this snarling monster riding on my back. This was long before Sufi or Eckhart Tolle. I already knew inside what the ego was. I just didn't know how to get rid of it. I didn't know about the present.

Staying in the present takes concentration and discipline. The ego is always there slipping in thoughts about the past or future, worrisome thoughts about what you should really be doing or what you forgot to do. Each time the ego throws in these thoughts you have to pull away, stop the train and return to the emptiness of no thought. That is basically the essence of meditation. Of course it’s difficult to focus on nothing, so typically you focus on something like the breath or a mantra or a visual image. It takes practice. It takes the will to do it especially when you're feeling awful and would rather eat some ice cream.

There are other doors to the present – really any activity that puts you wholly in the moment of here and now, will do. Playing a musical instrument can do it. Dancing does it for me as long as I can stay away from the thought that other people are looking at me and maybe I should change what I’m doing because I’ve been doing the same stupid move for the last ten minutes. Opps, just lost my footing. Mountain climbers enjoy this focus because a momentary lapse could mean death. Nothing like a strong motivator. Unfortunately, we can’t run off to the mountain every time we need to check in with our self. And we really should do that a lot -- every time we feel stressed, or stuck or anxious or sad. Because those are all signs of ego intrusion. That’s why I like using the breath. It’s so portable.

The Breath is always there. Waiting for the bus? Breathe in, watch where the breath goes. Stumped on the next sentence for your funding proposal? Send the breath to various parts of the body. Notice how each area of the body feels. Had an argument with your partner? Play with the breath. Breathe in for five counts, hold for five counts, breathe out for five counts, hold for five counts and repeat. Lots you can do with your breath. Breathe until the mind empties and the heart and stomach feel calm. Enjoy the peace.

One more suggestion -- keep reading books, watching movies, talking to friends, writing blogs that encourage and remind you to stay present.