Being Present

The tale of my prostate cancer journey starts nearly 50 years ago with a statement my late wife, Joan Edwards, made one morning in elementary school.

It's tempting to think that you need the tropical beach, the hammock by the lake, the walk in the woods, the yoga retreat or the special meditation cushion in order to feel the "ahhhhh" of inner peace. We all have certain props or places that we use to jump start that special sensation of anchored contentment.

The Internet boom is creating a technological language around what used to just be part of basic human interaction and relatedness. Will we soon need to be advised to say hello when greeting another person, to hug our child when she cries?

I have come to believe that the most potent gift we give to ourselves and anyone that we care for is our full attention. With our undistracted minds and our listening ears, we have within us what we all want most: the gift of full presence.

You may remind yourself a hundred times that you shouldn't get angry, but when the emotion comes, you are unable to control it. It comes like a thunderstorm. What can you do when anger rises in you?

When you are not fully present in the moment and completely focused on what you are doing, you are missing the experience. You are cheating life. You are cheating yourself.

Time is a sneaky thief, hell-bent on racing toward our mortality. The only way that we can outsmart it is by savoring every precious moment by being fully conscious, focused and conscientious every second.

When we record life through technology, we end up with one thing: a lot of technology. We have 16 gigabytes of memory, but no real memories of our life.

We are governed by questions like, "What can this person do for me? What can I get out of this situation?" At the root of being me-oriented is a mental orientation of the cup being half-empty.

How much time do you spend dwelling on the past or worrying about the future? These mental and emotional creations are all figments of your imagination. Meanwhile, reality is staring you right in the face.

It is one of life's greatest ironies that, no matter how much we want to be different, wherever we go, there we are. There's just no getting away from ourselves.

If you were sitting across the table from someone who was suffering right now, how would you approach them and what would you tell them?

Stories from our past, unforgiveness and regret distract us from living fully in the present. But how do we let things go and move on?

The point is that many of us are operating in default mode on a daily basis. We're on automatic pilot. We are so overwhelmed with information and requests for information we shut down and go on cruise control.

People reported that they mind wandered no less than 30 percent of the time, during everything except love making. And here's the kicker: people report being unhappy during mind wandering.

Think about your last meal. Were you at the table, tasting, smelling its aroma, feeling its texture as you chewed? Or were you in your mind, mentally lining up the next thing on your to-do list.

Becoming totally present allows us to know what feels right as a next step at any given moment.

I was so anxious to move forward, to figure out what was next, jump into a better adventure. On a quest for a cathartic experience, I missed the gift that was right in front of me.

This simple Samburu greeting is one of the latter. It is a simple method for coming present and connecting at a heartfelt level. We can do it anytime, anywhere with anyone.

Compared to the intensity of previous weeks of Boot Camp, I felt like I got a bit of a breather this week. At the very least, I am glad to be reminded that letting go of the past.

But I think it's more than just the pills and the lubricants that make sex in our second half such a wonderful activity. Our Elders have finally figured it out--and they're having the best sex of their lives.

Dear Christine, Lately I have been struggling so much with anxiety about everything in my life. I feel like I should have more figured out about my fu...

In all personal disasters, there comes a tipping point where asking "What if?" leads you to a dead-end, and being present is the only solution.