Most of the time we’re not really here. We’re reliving something that hurt us, or bracing for something that hasn’t happened yet: We are somewhere else, deep in thought, but far from present.
Our minds constantly run simulations: Whether it be by replaying conversations, imagining collapse, preparing for worst-case scenarios, or dragging us back to a memory that still carries weight. It’s a loop we don’t even know we’re caught in.
But if we zoom out for a second, we can notice something: All this mental noise isn’t coming from us. It’s coming from rules we inherited.
From a very young age, we learn how to survive. We’re taught what’s “good,” what’s “safe,” and what’s “possible”, most of which is handed down by other people. Parents, teachers, systems; people doing their best, but often passing down their own fears.
It’s precisely by these people, and their fears, that we absorb rules. “Don’t speak unless you’re sure”, “vulnerability is weakness”, “you need to earn your worth”, “if you fail, you’ll lose everything.” Be careful. Be quiet. Be small.
These rules were meant to protect us, yes, and to some degree, they protected us. But now, they confine us. They keep us replaying the past, or preparing for a future that doesn’t even exist yet. And in that loop, inside that cycle, we’re never really here and now.
But there’s something else happening, always. Something deeper, quieter, beneath all that mental noise. Underneath everything else is a moment: This one.
The present moment doesn’t care about your history or your predictions. It doesn’t ask what you’ve achieved or what you fear might collapse. It asks only one thing: What is happening right now? While stuck in our loops, we forget about what actually is taking place in the present moment: Our breaths. Our bodies. Our hearts. Our awareness.
The present moment, the one you’re living right now, is not made of judgment, comparison, or projection. It’s made of sensation, stillness, and truth. And in it, we are free.
“The brain lives in the past and future. The heart lives in the present,”
The mind is where we’ve stored every story that told us we’re not enough. But the heart is where those stories lose their grip. The heart doesn’t care what you “should” be.
It just beats. And quietly asks: What’s true now?
When we learn to live from that space, we start living with presence, and not just passing through the moment. We stop reacting to begin responding. We stop performing to begin feeling. We stop acting from anxiety to act from alignment.
In presence, the rules we inherited fall away, and we remember who we were before those fears took hold.
So, how can we start living from that place?
Start small: We’re used to not being present, so we can’t expect to just flip a switch and step into presence. We can start by noticing the loop, and gently interrupting it.
Pause, breathe deeply. Bring your awareness to your body, and ask yourself what you need from this moment. That’s presence. And the more you return to it, the more everything changes.
You are not broken just because you’re stuck in someone else’s old instructions. But those rules only have power when you live in their time zone; the past or the future.
The heart lives, and beats, right here. Right now.