Perfectly Present

April 5, 2026

I’m sitting in a restaurant resting atop a pier, looking at the ocean waves bristle against rocks on the opposing shore. Floating outside is a large Sandhill crane, hovering motionless with outstretched wings on a gust of wind. Suddenly it pulls in its wings and divebombs into the water headfirst. A second later it is floating like a duck, beak and neck extended toward the sky as it gurgles a fish down its throat. Across from me sit my two favorite people, my wife and daughter, also taking in the scenery between refueling bites from their own lunch.

Two minutes earlier my mind was racing. Even 1,200 miles from home, I couldn’t stop thinking about work. The blessing of a huge upcoming project felt weighty as I contemplated my next steps. I would need to do something I hadn’t done in a long time - hire a crew. The scale and timeframe necessitated it, and I knew it. But the logistics of overseeing others building alongside me required planning. Every upcoming decision needed to be weighed and considered. This was going to take a lot of groundwork before we got to rock work.

The problem was the vacation I was missing. Spring break had sprung, and a trip to visit family was underway. I had created the plan, bought the tickets, and made the reservations. Better yet, it was all happening without a hitch. Only my mind was elsewhere. That’s actually a pretty big hiccup.

How many of us fall into this trap?

All physical matter is present for a great time, except the fractured mind that can’t focus on the joy in front of it. This problem feels more like an incurable disease rather than a broken leg. It’s not a one-time issue that will be solved with proper medical attention and time. This thing flares up at all the worst possible moments, and feels as consistent as the changing seasons. Restless mind syndrome.

From a biological standpoint, I guess it makes sense. The best way to protect yourself and remain nourished is to stay on your toes. Look for danger and opportunity around every corner. But I’m not a caveman, and I’m not starving or wet from lack of shelter. There has to be a way to straighten these stray brainwaves.

Ah yes, presence. Turns out there is a way to keep this pesky scatterbrain in check. I just have to remember to live in the moment. So I switch lanes in my head, leaving the work scenarios in the rearview mirror, and instead focus all my attention in front of me.

What do I see? I see two beautiful women. One is my best friend, the other is the object of our collective affection. These two people are really all that matter. At any given moment, my joy rests not only with them, but also in the perceived future lived out alongside them. I’m happy for what we have, while also anticipating what we will experience together in the years to come. So if I really think about it, at present I am experiencing two special things: this moment and the fulfillment of previous dreams.

This is the action that usually snaps my brain in the right frame of mind. I just have to remember that the current moment is the fulfillment of what I used to long for. A younger version of myself, one that existed when work was scarce, our daughter didn’t exist yet, and travel was a luxury, that person would look at my current situation and think it was the peak of existence. I can hear my past indignant voice say,

“Wait, you have too much job security, your daughter is amazing, and you traveled to California to visit family on a whim, but you can’t focus? What is wrong with you? What more could you want from life? You won the lotto but aren’t soaking it in?”

Yes, younger me, you are correct. But not any longer. I see your point, and will adjust my course. The blessings of now should override my constant planning of tomorrow. This moment is everything I ever wanted. It’s still what I want. Look at your two ladies, they are perfect. Look at the waves outside, and the birds in the air. Taste the delicious food you are putting in your mouth. This perfect moment deserves your perfect presence.