Quieting the cacophony - presence, a pillar of aliveness

When was the last time you allowed a magnificent sunset to stop you in your tracks? Savored every subtlety of a favorite meal? Reveled in each delicious moment of a passionate kiss?

In the cacophony of our frenetic and frenzied modern lives, slowing down, noticing, and relishing in our embodied realities can feel impossible. For most of us, the only time we remember how to be present is on vacation—when we've paid thousands of dollars and traveled hundreds of miles for permission to finally be here.

but I think we all sense this is a problem. Because presence—the ability to savor what's actually in front of us—is the foundation of aliveness. And it shouldn't cost a plane ticket.

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Think about it: what do you remember about your favorite trip? Not the itinerary you planned or the hotel you booked. You remember a favorite meal, hearing your child's ecstatic laughter in the pool, the way a vista took your breath away, the memory of sun on your skin. All things you could only access with all five senses perked.

I remember being on a solo trip to the Cycladic islands of Greece - a long dreamt of destination. I was walking the ancient cobbled streets of Naxos, wearing a locally made flowing skirt in deep, mediterranean blue, smelling the mix of sea salt and Greek spices in the air. I followed the sound of live music to a rooftop bar overlooking the harbor, took in the faces of travelers from all parts of the world as I sipped my gin and tonic. And when the taverna owner asked me to dance Zorba the Greek with him in front of everyone, I bravely said yes, and for four ecstatic minutes he and I spun around the restaurant, gaining other dancers in our line as we went.

Certainly, the comedown from a magical vacation can be jarring. But I've realized something: the magic of being here, now is available to us every single day.

For most of my adult life, I've rarely slowed down to prepare a truly homemade meal for myself. A frozen option, container of leftovers, or takeout were always easier for my exhausted brain. Over the last year though, I've begun cooking myself a real meal one or two days a week, often on the weekends when I have a bit more energy. And the difference is palpable. I take my time at the grocery store, feeling the plumpness of a tomato, smelling basil, and lingering over the wine section. When I get home I turn on my favorite album, pour myself a glass of cab sauv, and savor the slicing and sautéing and sizzling. All of my senses feel awake, my pulse slows, and life feels more manageable - an outcome I didn't expect when I considered cooking too “inefficient.”

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Here's what I'm learning: the things we're generally incentivized to ignore—those things we can touch, smell, taste, see, hear—are actually the key to living a more embodied and engaged life.

Slow meal prep often gives us MORE energy than takeout Thai. Putting our phones away during coffee with a friend allows the conversation to deepen. Staying present in an uncomfortable conversation—feeling our feet on the ground, our breath in our chest—might be what allows us to break through ideological impasses.

All of these things are available to us, all the time. Aliveness is quite literally at our fingertips. What can you see, hear, touch, smell, or taste right now? And how might it lead you down unexpected paths that awaken you to your life today?

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Presence. It's one of our four pillars to aliveness at The Gathering School, and it's ESSENTIAL to living a life fully awake. Meet me here next week to explore how PLAY - that beautiful sense of curiosity without outcome - can reconnect us to a sense of aliveness.