Presence is more than just being there. – Malcolm Forbes
Last Sunday afternoon I was on an hour long train ride from Kennington Station in London to Heathrow airport. I planned on reading a book, but after I sat down I decided to just sit quietly and observe. Think. Daydream. Across from me was a man who had gotten on the train one stop after I did, and beside him sat his son, holding a white balloon with black writing on it, which I could not make out, and then beside the son, at the end of the row of seats, stood the child’s mother. The boy looked to be about 4.
He was in great spirits, playing with his balloon by loosening the string tied to the balloon between his fingers so it could ascend higher, and then pulling it back down. He was singing and talking to himself, never taking his eyes off the balloon for more than a moment. I enjoyed watching him play. While he played and entertained himself, his parents remained silent and very absorbed in the activity of scrolling up on and down on the screens of their smart phones.
A few times the boy called out, “daddy! daddy, look.” At first his father ignored him, or, perhaps he didn’t hear, which wasn’t likely but you never know, but the child was persistent. “Daddy!” he called just a bit louder. “Look, daddy!” The father eventually looked, clearly forcing an expression of amusement, smirked and simultaneously gave a single nod, and then returned to scrolling. The boy, unaffected by his father’s visible lack of genuine interest, continued playing merrily. After a minute or two, the child called for his daddy again. With a deep breath that signaled annoyance, the father again briefly looked up and then back down again.
For the remaining 30 minutes of the train ride, the boy played and no longer tried to involve his daddy. Eventually his mommy put her phone away and chatted with her son a bit. Then they all got off the train at the stop right before mine. The scene was difficult to watch. I know that children can be a handful and that parents can’t pay attention to them every minute of every day. But it was so clear to me how the boy was the only one of the three of them who was where he was, and not just physically. He was present and in the moment, and his parents were someplace else.
At the same stop where they got off, as the train stood still for a minute or so, allowing for new passengers to board, I noticed a young couple outside the doors about 10 ft away from the platform embracing. I noticed them almost immediately. I continued to watch, and they continued to embrace. They just stood there, holding one another. Not moving, not speaking. Just hugging, and breathing. As the train pulled away, they were still enveloped in each other’s arms. Fully there; fully present.
I’ve seen several photos and videos posted online that capture families sitting around the dinner table, each one of them texting or surfing the net. I’ve watched couples at restaurants, each on their phones while they ate. I’ve read devastating reports of fatal accidents resulting in drivers not being present while behind the wheel. Each of these examples is tragic in its own way. It’s hard enough to be present and engaged without the issue of our addiction to our electronics, because our minds can easily serve as a powerful and constant distraction. But can we please focus on not letting our phones interfere with us actually living our lives?
Can we just decide that when we’re with others, we’re not on our phones?
That day really got me thinking. I realized that there is pretty much never a good reason to pull out my phone while I’m with another person, unless I am looking for directions or the name of a restaurant, or I’d like to take a photo, or need to be mindful of the time. Otherwise, I don’t need to reply to texts, or check FB, or look at my email, because all of that can wait. It really isn’t important 99% of the time. What is important is to be present with whomever I’m with. Or to be present to the world around me if I’m alone, so that I can be connected to it.
It’s really insane (and scary) how obsessed we’ve become with checking our inboxes and notifications. I don’t want to spend too much of the rest of my life staring at a screen instead of at the sky, or interesting buildings, or cute dogs, or beautiful people, or couples lovingly embracing. I don’t want to miss opportunities to smile back at a stranger, or help someone who’s dropped their glove, or be available to engage in a conversation with someone who could become a friend.
I just can’t help but wonder how many missed chances at experiencing awe, wonder, joy, curiosity, laughter, or love, among other things, are missed everyday, every moment even, because so few of us are paying attention. So few of us gift our friends, family, and the world with our presence whenever the opportunity arises anymore.
I’ve decided I’m choosing presence over mindless distraction. Because I can decide that. And I have.
How about you?
Be you and enjoy it.
