Reflections often begin with a simple thought or observation. Sometimes, they show up unexpectedly—like while reading a novel, watching a movie, or hearing a single line in a conversation that catches your attention. Today, I was chatting with my friend about the usual things: daily routines, updates, and so on. Then she said something that stayed with me all day: “Each day we worry about tomorrow, we take today’s peace away.”
My friend is one of those people who’s generally fun, loving, and sociable—often jokingly saying, “I don’t want deep conversations. There’s enough of that in real life!” But even so, some of her one-liners reveal a staunch depth and strength behind her smile and seemingly carefree attitude. She stays in the present moment.
The word present, used as a noun, has two meanings: 1) A gift and 2) the present time—the now. Sure, we’ve all seen the inspirational quotes. They are everywhere, from tattoos to coffee mugs: Stay in the present, be in the now, be in the moment…
I am not writing this as a self-help strategy to change anyone’s life (I’m no expert there). I’m exploring what would happen if we noticed how many opportunities are offered in a given day to change our thoughts, to stay in the present, and to see past the words that someone has spoken.
When I look at children, for example, they offer so much wisdom! There is one little guy in particular (I won’t name him because he likes his privacy) that comes to mind; he’s five years old. When I spend time with him it feels as though time takes on new meaning. Time seems to fly. Why? There is no tangible reason. We do simple things.
One time, for example, I was babysitting (he doesn’t like that word because he says he’s not a baby!), and I told him we would go somewhere fun and special. But the truth was that I had no idea where to go spend the day. I was thinking of ideas as I slowly drove around, taking the long way, while he waited silently. He had turned ninety degrees to face the window, excitedly holding onto the seat belt. Then, I pulled up to the parking lot at the mall. The little voice in the back got louder and louder: Don’t tell me we are going to the stores! I hate shopping!!
I gently ensured him that we’d have fun, as I held his little hand making our way to the door. He splashed in a puddle of water, then laughed spontaneously (he didn’t complain about the weather or go around the puddle as I had done). He forgot that “he hated shopping” and immediately asked what fun things were there to do in the mall (the hope of the present moment never waivered). His annoyance turned to wonder almost instantly. Our walk around the mall became an exploration as we took each moment as it came.
He marveled at the things he hadn’t noticed before, like the new ice-cream shop with the rainbow-coloured display, he noticed a baby trying to get out of a stroller, a woman eating on a bench instead of the restaurant. Of course, there were many whys! As we walked and talked the mall transformed into something magical. All it took was one sentence. Let’s explore.
We walked into the various shops and played games: let’s see who can spot something blue first. Who can count how many people wearing a hat are in this store? How many are holding bags in this store? Finally…is Spiderman hiding somewhere in this store? We laughed, we raced in the aisles, we counted tiles on the floor, we stayed in the present moment. What a gift!
And so the journey continues…