Being Present

Being present is what it feels like when your mind is where your body already is. Buddhism, Stoicism, and cognitive behavioral therapy all circle this in their own way: pay attention to what’s in front of you instead of getting dragged around by regret, anxiety, or whatever story your brain is spinning up next.

These subway goers choose not to be present by scrolling their preferred
entertainment feeds. — These subway goers choose not to be present by scrolling their preferred entertainment feeds. If you look up from your phone when out and about, you’ll notice that most people are doing the same thing.

In my previous post, I explored the fascinating connections between CBT and Stoicism, particularly their shared insight that our emotions aren’t simply inflicted upon us—we actively participate in their creation through our interpretations of events.

Internalizing these principles requires practice and patience. I’ll admit that I once dismissed concepts like “being present” or “living in the moment” as empty New Age platitudes. What changed my mind was noticing how scattered and reactive I felt when I let my attention get pulled in ten directions all day. There is also decent evidence that mindfulness practice changes the brain in measurable ways, including areas tied to attention and emotional regulation.

For most of us, the primary obstacle to presence isn’t philosophical disagreement but the relentless bombardment of attention-hijacking stimuli. Our digital devices, social media feeds, news cycles, and entertainment options constantly compete for our finite attentional resources. A lot of this is self-inflicted too. We keep reaching for the phone, opening another tab, checking the feed again, and then wonder why our brains feel frayed. The average person checks their phone 96 times daily— once every 10 minutes of waking life.

I didn’t fix this by disappearing into the woods. A few smaller changes helped more than I expected. Here are practices I’ve personally found effective:

Practice device minimalism: Keep your smartphone as just that—a phone. Avoid installing unnecessary apps, particularly those designed to maximize engagement. When tempted to reflexively check your phone during moments of micro-boredom, deliberately redirect your attention to your surroundings instead.
Befriend boredom: If you stop reflexively filling every dull moment, boredom gets less irritating and more useful. Neuroscience research suggests that our most creative insights and meaningful self-reflection emerge during periods of “constructive boredom”—when our minds can wander without external demands.
Conduct an attention audit: Consider deleting accounts on attention economy platforms that provide minimal value. Research participants who took social media breaks reported significant improvements in wellbeing, sleep quality, and authentic social connection.
Prioritize nature immersion: Spend time in natural settings without digital distractions. The “attention restoration theory” proposed by environmental psychologists suggests that natural environments replenish our depleted attentional resources in ways urban or digital environments cannot.
Practice news fasting: Most news content optimizes for emotional activation rather than informational value. Consider limiting consumption to specific times or curated sources. Remember that traditional media operates within the same attention economy as social platforms, just with different business models.
Cultivate flow states: Engage in activities that fully absorb your attention—reading, writing, creating art, playing music, practicing yoga, or meditating. Flow states, as described by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, represent the pinnacle of present-moment awareness, where time seems to disappear and self-consciousness fades.

Some of these recommendations—particularly deleting social media accounts—might appear extreme. However, it’s worth critically examining which digital tools genuinely enhance your life versus those that merely consume your attention without proportional return. If you can maintain a healthily bounded relationship with these platforms, they may serve valuable purposes. But if you find yourself spending hours daily in passive consumption, reevaluation may be warranted.

How your days feel has a lot to do with what keeps getting your attention. In a world built to chop that attention into little monetizable pieces, learning to hold onto it starts to feel less like philosophy and more like basic defense. When we take some of it back from the feeds and algorithms, life stops feeling quite so thin.

Being present isn’t some enlightened end state. It’s catching yourself drifting, coming back, and doing that again and again. You’ll never finish the job, but even a little more of that makes life feel more lived and less scrolled past.