Being present dethrones our usual subjectivity -- our self-obsessed, self-enclosed inwardness -- leaving us with little or no allegiance to the viewpoint or intentions of our conditioning. Our underlying standpoint then becomes not ours, but Being’s, however idiosyncratically colored or structured its expression might be. It’s not that we become vacant or disengaged from our individuality, but that we cease, to a significant degree, letting our egoic self-sense center and represent us.

Being present decentralizes egoity.

But as natural as it is to be present, it’s not our common state. More often than not, we are elsewhere and elsewhen, tangled up in past and future, dragging along yesterday as we hook ourselves to tomorrow. We may like the idea of being present, but we’re generally not so fond of doing what it takes to be and remain present.

If we won’t allow ourselves to be present when “we” don’t want to be present, then we’ll likely not get sufficiently acquainted with the us who does not give a damn about being present, the us that’s adept at -- and has a huge investment in -- rationalizing and legitimizing our reactivity and mechanicalness.

It is difficult to be present when we have trouble or resist seeing our conditioning for what it is. Often, all that is actually present is our past, with its festering burden of unresolved hurt, numbing or amnesiac overlays, and compensatory addictions. Even those who have done considerable psychospiritual work may, when they know -- or least have access to evidence -- that they are far from present, still often act as if they indeed are present, fending off proof to the contrary, because openly admitting to such a “shortcoming” may be anathema to their spiritual status, as well as being just plain embarrassing.

How easy it is to fear, reject, or ignore signs that we are not where we think we should be, namely present, instead of simply becoming conscious of just who -- or what -- it is that has reduced being present to a credential, an ego-ornament. To thus evaluate ourselves is to diminish ourselves (whether through shrinkage or inflation), to degrade ourselves trying to make the grade.

When we slip, stumble, or fall, and then add insult to injury through indulging in self-deprecation, we need to discover who -- or what -- is generating such malignant critiquing, without getting caught up in judging our judging.

If we are genuinely committed to being present no matter what, then we will usually welcome -- though not always initially! -- those situations, inner or outer, which expose our faults and neurotic wanderings. The degree to which this occurs is the degree to which we’ve lost interest in looking good or spiritual.

Real spiritual opening is not some cleancut or antiseptic undertaking, but rather is an inherently messy undertaking, as intense, unpredictable, and alive as birth, eventually necessitating wholehearted entry into everything that we are, including what we despise about ourselves. The dirt cannot be avoided, and nor should it be. In fact, it needs to be appreciated and known without gloves, or else it will not become soil for our emergence.

Trying to change the us who hasn’t the slightest desire to get to the heart of the matter is not enough, though it may get things rolling. It is essential that we develop an unforced and real interest in that particular us, a curiosity and compassion that extends far beyond therapeutic and meditation chambers.

To thus explore our “downside” -- our depressiveness, reactivity, violence, fear, cowardice, laziness -- is not about our “up-ness” going slumming “down there”, like some sort of obnoxiously sympathetic humanitarian or cultural superstar making the obligatory, praise-snaring rounds to the societally “disadvantaged”, but rather is about descending with Awakened feeling, and compassion into -- and eventually through -- what we have spent most of our life trying to rise above, subjugate, eviscerate, or forget. Here, we deliberately let ourselves be brought down, until there’s no directional bias, but only Being, only reclaimed Self, only bare Presence.

Such intimacy with our ostracized aspects is not conceptually or symbolically arrived at. We cannot think or metaphorize our way through terror or dread. An essential step in working with such states is to -- at the right time and at the right pace -- move closer to them, to get inside them, while remaining present. This may be very unpleasant for a time, but it is ultimately liberating.

Being present does not always feel good. It is not about feeling good. In fact, it is not about feeling a particular feeling nor about feeling a particular way, and nor is it a matter of being in a particular circumstance. Being present simply means that Being is undeniably and significantly present, regardless of how it appears and feels.

So how do we get present?

First of all, by noticing and openly admitting when we are not or have not been present, or are only barely present. And how do we do that? By not treating our pain as an enemy or problem; by befriending our discomfort and failures; by ceasing to distract ourselves from our suffering; by no longer smothering our feelings of hopelessness with hope; and so on. And how do we do all this?

We can begin by not being seduced by the supposed sincerity of such questions, weaning ourselves not only from our superficial or merely curious questioning, but also from the unacknowledged distancing it provides. If we persist in doing so, the actual identity of the “questioner” eventually will be nonconceptually revealed. Sufficient attention must be freed from irrelevant concerns, or else Being will be reduced to just a bit of linguistic exotica.

We would also do well to not flee our hurt, nor use it as an excuse or bargaining device. Don’t try to cure it, don’t treat it as a problem or inconvenience or anomaly; instead, give it room to breathe and grieve and storm and unfurl and come fully alive, until it’s not just yours, but you, reclaimed you.

To be present does not mean abiding with supposed awareness atop or “above” one’s domesticated accumulations and pain. Such cerebral escapism is of no more value than is indulging in emotionalism, and is actually more dangerous, because its irrationality is far better camouflaged.

Be still.

Can you be still right now? Not just outwardly, but inwardly, too?

Has a minute passed, or only a few seconds? What is pulling your attention away from full participation in this moment? Where are you permitting your attention to go? And whose permission is it? Are you out of your mind, or are you informing yourself that I am? Is this a question to you, or something else?

Be still. And even stiller.

Real stillness does not necessarily require a cessation of movement or thought, but rather a relocation of attention to the animating core and actual process of movement and thought.

You don’t have to be motionless to be present. In fact, you don’t have to be anything in particular -- all that is needed is to consciously Be. There are so many alluringly compelling elsewheres and elsewhens clamoring for your attention. However, none of these are actually obstructing Being, for they are but clouds in the sky of Being, nonproblematically encountered when we are present. Be stillness, Be movement, Be without trying to be other than what you are, Be so present that you have no conception of being present.

Being present Homes us.