As we enter November, I’ve been reflecting on a busy month that has been deeply rewarding in so many ways. Through all of it, one thing kept shining through: the power of presence.
I felt it walking through the woods and fly fishing. I felt it in the quiet of sitting with myself. And I felt it in conversations where giving someone my full attention changed what became possible between us.
These experiences brought me back to three places where presence matters: our relationship with nature, our relationship with ourselves, and our relationship with one another. The more attention I gave to each, the more connected I felt to my own life.
Presence with nature
Walking through the woods and fly fishing in a stream and a river gave me multiple opportunities to pause, witness what was around me, and come into my breath.
The trees were turning beautiful shades of red, yellow, and orange, sometimes holding all three at once. The air felt fresh and full of life. The water was teeming with life of its own. There were sounds I could hear more clearly when I stopped and gave them my attention.
Millions of miracles happening around me, with so much of it easy to miss.
With every breath, I felt more connected to my surroundings. My attention settled into the place where I was standing. I could feel how small I was within something so vast, and how blessed I was to be there, alive and able to experience it.
Gratitude filled my heart. For moments, nothing came to mind. I had nothing to add to what was happening. Clarity and peace seemed to reach every part of me.
Dr. Zach Bush puts our relationship with the natural world simply:
“To be human is to be connected to nature itself.”
We are nature. The air moving through our lungs, the water sustaining us, the earth that grows our food: our lives depend on a relationship we can go whole days barely noticing.
It’s easy to move between buildings, cars, and screens until the living world becomes something we look at through a window. I want to keep making room to experience it directly. A trail or a river offers that opportunity, and so can a neighborhood park or a tree we pass every day.
That time outside reminded me how much is already here when I slow down enough to receive it.
Presence with yourself
Turning that same attention inward can feel more difficult. The woods offered beauty and peace. Sitting with ourselves also means making room for whatever feels unresolved.
Once the distractions quiet down, we may notice sadness, frustration, or exhaustion we’ve been pushing past. There may be something we haven’t wanted to admit to ourselves. Sometimes we reach for the next task or the next distraction before we’ve even recognized what we’re feeling.
I keep coming back to this: presence unlocks prowess.
There is strength in being able to sit with yourself and allow an experience to be what it is. To notice an emotion without immediately acting on it. To recognize a familiar reaction and give yourself enough room to choose what comes next.
That kind of attention can show us where we keep getting in our own way. It can also reveal what we need. A feeling we’ve been fighting may need acknowledgment. Exhaustion may need rest. Something we’ve been carrying alone may need to be spoken aloud.
Some of the shit we carry feels lifetimes old. Giving it honest attention can be uncomfortable, and understanding it can take time. We can move at a pace we can hold. Reaching for support is part of being honest about what we need, too.
I deserve the best parts of myself. For me, that begins with giving care and attention to the parts I would usually avoid. I want to know what is happening within me well enough to meet my life with greater clarity.
Our bodies are part of that conversation. Notice the breath you’re holding, the tension you’re carrying, how tired you are. Give yourself a moment to listen before demanding more.
The question I want to keep making space for is simple: What am I feeling right now, and what kind of care does it ask of me?
Presence with others
Another powerful experience this month came from sitting with other people. Hearing them. Seeing them. Giving them my undivided attention.
In those moments, nothing else existed but the person in front of me. As they shared their lives, they offered me a mirror and an opportunity to be curious. There was so much to learn by asking a question and leaving enough room for the answer.
These conversations were life changing. They drove something home for me: connection is vital to our growth.
Listening takes a willingness to let another person’s experience unfold. It asks us to notice when we’ve started preparing our response, comparing their story to our own, or looking for a solution before they’ve finished speaking. We can bring our attention back to what they are actually telling us.
Sometimes the most useful thing we can ask is, “Would you like my thoughts, or would it help if I just listened?” Then we need to respect the answer.
Simon Sinek describes a rule he shares with his friends: “No crying alone.” He speaks about the willingness to accompany a friend through pain without rushing to fix it, and the importance of letting friends offer that same presence to us.
That goes both ways. We can listen when someone we love is struggling, and we can let someone we trust know when we are having a hard time. Receiving care asks for a kind of openness that giving care doesn’t always require.
Through connection, we gain witnesses to our lives. Someone hears what we’ve been carrying. They may ask a question we couldn’t have asked ourselves, or offer wisdom we would never have found alone.
I have found more clarity through connection than isolation. Solitude still has a place; time alone can help us hear ourselves. But I want to notice when that time becomes a way of withdrawing from the people who care about me.
There is joy in being witnessed, too. We can share what is going well, what we’re learning, and what we’re grateful for. Giving those moments our full attention is another way we participate in one another’s lives.
The presence I felt beside the water and the presence I felt in those conversations had something in common. I was available to what was right in front of me. And I came away feeling connected.
An invitation for November
Be present with yourself, even when what you feel is uncomfortable. Listen to your body. Give yourself time, and reach for support when you need it. You deserve your own attention and care.
When someone is sharing something with you, listen to hear them. Let them finish. Give curiosity a chance before offering advice. So often, people want to know that someone sees them and is willing to stay.
And last but not least, get the fuck outside.
Find a trail, a beach, a patch of grass, or a little shade beneath a tree. Find whatever piece of nature is available to you. Take a huge pause. Let yourself notice where you are.
Breathe it the fuck in. You made it. You’re here.
I’m grateful for all of you, and for the moments of connection that keep teaching me how much it means to be present.
With Humility,
Michael