You got Palmer today!
I don’t know what it is, but for months something has been bashing around in my head pushing me to better understand two things: what does being present actually mean, and what are the little ways I escape without realizing it. And strangely enough, it keeps taking me back to a meditation retreat I did in Thailand and one monk who changed the way I understood presence.
If you feel like you’ve mastered this whole “present moment” thing, first, please tell me how! Secondly, I’d invite you to still join me as we explore this idea more.
Back in September, I wrote about presence, but these last few months have taken me a lot deeper. If you asked me six months ago, “Do you live in the present moment?” I would have confidently said, “Of course!” As many of you probably know, it’s easy to take our understanding of something to a new level and then convince ourselves that NOW we really get it. The older version of us was just naive, but the new us gets it.
I’ve been looking at the psychology research behind this, and whether you approach the world through a faith lens or not, psychology supports where I’m going with this. The brain wants comfort, familiarity, and the path that drains the least energy. The second something feels uncomfortable, our brain starts quietly looking for the exit. The tricky part is that to save energy, it tries to do this subconsciously so we don’t even realize it.
So then I think the important questions to ask are: What is actually being present? and What do I do that puts distance between me and being fully present?
This isn’t about enlightenment. It’s about noticing all the easy escape options our brain defaults toward.
Most of us would agree that someone struggling with addiction is likely trying to escape something internal. But when we ask ourselves if we may be addicted to escape, we often say, “No” or “I mean maybe a tiny bit, but it’s not an addiction,” And maybe that’s true in the clinical sense. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t missing something important.
One rising idea in addiction research is that addiction is less about the substance or behavior and more about the discomfort underneath. Meaning if someone stopped one compulsive behavior without support, they’d likely replace it with another. And that idea helped me start to look at my own life with a little more honesty.
Here are some ways I escape that turn crumbs into a giant pie of escapism. And until I got rid of social media 70 days ago, I hit almost every one of these:
• 30 to 45 minutes of a self-improvement podcast
• 5 to 10 minutes on LinkedIn
• 10 to 20 minutes on Zillow
• 20 to 30 minutes of Audible
• A full bag of chips
• Sweet treats (ideally my wife’s non-refined sugar cookies)
• 10 to 30 minutes on Instagram
• 10 to 30 minutes on Facebook
• 20 to 40 minutes of a show
• 10 to 100 minutes of music
• Online shopping
• Planning hypothetical trips
And honestly, that barely scratches the surface. I might not have one big compulsive behavior on that list, but when you add all the small ones together, clearly my brain cannot be trusted to seek the present moment on its own.
Here are more examples from my life or from people close to me. And fun fact, it is almost always easier to notice how other people escape than to notice your own, and people love it when you point them out😅…kidding:
• Continual cleaning (definitely not me)
• Having a drink or two
• Working extra hours
• Trying to control our environment or the people in it
• Reading
• Continual pantry visits
• Stressing about the future
Many of these can be healthy on their own. But the point isn’t whether they’re good or bad. The point is noticing how often our brain reaches for them to soothe itself instead of letting us fully live the moment we’re in.
And the more awareness I’ve built, the more I’ve seen how powerful my escape mechanisms are. But also how much better life feels when I stop letting my brain’s desire for immediate comfort always call the shots, even if just for a minute.
Which brings me back to Thailand as I wrap us up.
At the monastery, the monks still had simple tasks every day, but it was the way they ate that hit me. Eating for me has always been something mindless and soothing. For them, it was a chance to GET to be fully alive in the moment. One monk told me they sometimes spend two or three hours eating one meal because they want to honor it and not go about it mindlessly. They do many things, but in particular they visualize the cells of the food being broken down and turned into energy to fuel their bodies,
Meanwhile, my brain is usually asking, “What else can I eat after this snack?”
This doesn’t mean I feel pressure to eat for two hours. With a 10 month old, five uninterrupted minutes with him in his high chair feels like a spiritual retreat all on its own. But what I can do is adopt bits and pieces of their mindset: seeing even the small things not as “have to’s,” but as opportunities to be present
If you want to take this deeper, here’s the best place to start: Write down all the ways you escape. Then add to it as your awareness reveals more of them.
Then pick something consistent in your day – I choose meals, and spend 60 seconds just existing. Let everything else fade out. Let yourself settle into the moment in whatever way feels meaningful.
Those 60 seconds have been one of the most grounding tools I’ve found. And the more I do it, the more fully alive I feel. I might not be a monk, but I’m eager to continue to grow… no matter how slowly.
Grateful to be on this journey together!
