One of the strange things about growing older is that we finally have enough experience to understand how valuable time is — just as we begin to realize it is not unlimited.
When we were young, we spent enormous amounts of time thinking about tomorrow.
What will I become?
Where will I live?
Will I succeed?
Will I find love?
Will I have enough money?
Then, as the years accumulate, something else happens. We begin spending more time looking backward.
We remember people who are gone, opportunities we missed, decisions we might have made differently, homes where we once lived, careers we once had, and versions of ourselves that no longer exist.
There is nothing wrong with memory or planning. Both are essential parts of being human.
But there is a danger.
We can spend so much time visiting yesterday and worrying about tomorrow that we forget to live today.
And today is the only place where life actually happens.
That is the power of being present.
You Don’t Have to Become a Monk
The phrase “living in the present” can sound a little mystical.
You might picture someone sitting cross-legged on a mountain for six hours listening to a bell.
Fortunately, that is not required.
Being present simply means paying attention to what is happening right now, rather than allowing your mind to spend every waking moment replaying the past or rehearsing the future.
The National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health describes mindfulness as maintaining attention or awareness on the present moment without judgment. Research suggests mindfulness practices may be helpful for stress, anxiety, sleep, and some aspects of well-being, although the strength of the evidence varies depending on the outcome being studied.
You do not need special clothing.
You do not need incense.
And you certainly don’t need to subscribe to an app that charges you $12.99 a month to remind you to breathe.
You are already breathing.
The trick is noticing it.
The Past Is a Wonderful Place to Visit
Memory becomes increasingly important as we grow older.
Our memories are part of our identity.
They connect us to parents, spouses, children, friends, careers, travels, triumphs, mistakes, and countless ordinary days that somehow became precious after they were gone.
The problem isn’t remembering the past.
The problem is living there.
There is a difference between remembering an old love with affection and spending every day wishing life had turned out differently.
There is a difference between learning from a mistake and putting yourself on trial for it every morning.
At some point, wisdom asks us to recognize that yesterday cannot be renegotiated.
This connects with another important idea we have explored: What are you still carrying that you could put down?
Regret can be useful when it teaches us something.
After the lesson has been learned, continuing to punish ourselves rarely changes the outcome.
You cannot rewrite yesterday.
But you can prevent yesterday from stealing today.
The Future Can Steal Today Too
The opposite problem is worry.
What if my health declines?
What if I run out of money?
What if I lose someone?
What if I become dependent?
What if my children need me?
What if I need them?
These are not foolish concerns, particularly in later life.
Planning matters.
Having appropriate insurance matters.
Saving matters.
Maintaining health matters.
Having conversations with family matters.
But planning and worrying are not the same thing.
Planning asks:
“What can I do about this?”
Worry often asks:
“How many times can I imagine something terrible happening before it actually happens?”
One is useful.
The other can consume enormous amounts of life.
If there is something you can do about tomorrow, do it.
If there isn’t, returning your attention to today may be the healthiest decision available.
Aging Changes the Mathematics of Time
At 25, wasting an afternoon doesn’t seem terribly important.
There appear to be thousands more waiting in line.
At 60, 70, 80, or 90, time begins to feel different.
That doesn’t make life depressing.
It can make life more valuable.
Scarcity changes appreciation.
We understand this with almost everything else.
If there were only ten bottles of a great wine left in the world, nobody would gulp one while answering email.
We would slow down.
We would taste it.
We would notice it.
Perhaps we should think about time the same way.
Growing older can teach us to stop treating ordinary days as disposable.
That idea is central to The Art of Growing Older Without Becoming Old: chronological aging does not require us to become spectators in our own lives.
The goal isn’t merely to accumulate more years.
It is to remain awake for the years we have.
Presence Makes Ordinary Life Bigger
Most of life isn’t made up of extraordinary events.
Vacations are wonderful.
Weddings matter.
Birthdays matter.
Major accomplishments matter.
But most Tuesday afternoons are not going to become family legends.
Life is mostly ordinary.
Breakfast.
Coffee.
Walking the dog.
Driving somewhere.
Talking to a friend.
Cooking dinner.
Watching birds outside the window.
Listening to music.
Sitting with somebody you love.
If we wait for spectacular events before allowing ourselves to feel alive, we can miss most of our lives.
Presence enlarges ordinary moments.
Try drinking your next cup of coffee without simultaneously reading email, watching television, and worrying about Thursday.
Taste it.
Smell it.
Notice the warmth.
That sounds almost absurdly simple.
It is.
And perhaps that is why we overlook it.
We Have Become Professional Distracters
Modern technology has made being present more difficult.
We carry devices designed to interrupt us.
A phone vibrates.
We check it.
A headline appears.
We open it.
A notification arrives.
Someone somewhere has apparently done something we urgently need to know about.
Five minutes becomes thirty.
Thirty becomes an hour.
And suddenly we have spent part of our finite lifetime discovering what complete strangers had for lunch.
Technology is enormously useful, particularly for older adults. It allows us to communicate, learn, navigate, work, entertain ourselves, and stay connected.
But tools should serve us.
We should not serve the tools.
Try occasionally putting the phone in another room.
Take a walk without carrying the entire Internet in your pocket.
Have dinner without placing a screen beside the plate.
Talk to someone and give them your full attention.
That last one may be increasingly rare.
And because it is rare, it has become unusually valuable.
Presence Improves Relationships
One of the greatest gifts you can give another human being is attention.
Not advice.
Not money.
Not a solution.
Attention.
We often listen while preparing our response.
We listen while thinking about something else.
We listen while glancing at the television.
We listen while checking a text message.
And then we wonder why people feel lonely.
You can be sitting three feet away from someone and still be absent.
The next time someone you care about speaks, try something radical:
Listen.
Do not immediately fix the problem.
Do not top their story with a better story.
Do not check your phone.
Just be there.
For seniors, this can be particularly meaningful. Social connection is an important part of healthy aging, and genuine conversation requires presence.
Sometimes companionship isn’t about finding more people.
It is about becoming more present with the people already there.
Five Simple Ways to Become More Present
You don’t need to reorganize your life.
Start small.
First, notice one ordinary thing every morning.
The sunlight.
The weather.
Your coffee.
The quiet.
A bird.
Your breathing.
Give it ten seconds of actual attention.
Second, do one thing at a time occasionally.
If you’re eating, eat.
If you’re walking, walk.
If you’re listening to music, listen.
Multitasking often means we are doing several things while experiencing none of them fully.
Third, use your senses.
What can you see?
Hear?
Feel?
Smell?
Taste?
Your senses exist in the present.
They cannot smell tomorrow.
Fourth, create small periods without your phone.
Ten minutes is enough to begin.
You may discover that civilization continues functioning without your supervision.
Fifth, when your mind travels, bring it back.
You will think about the past.
You will worry about tomorrow.
That is normal.
The goal isn’t to eliminate thought.
Simply notice where your mind went and return to what is happening now.
That returning is the practice.
Presence Is Not Denial
Being present does not mean pretending everything is wonderful.
Aging can bring genuine difficulties.
Loss.
Illness.
Pain.
Financial worries.
Loneliness.
Disappointment.
Presence does not require us to paint a smile over reality.
Sometimes being present means admitting:
Today is difficult.
I am grieving.
I am afraid.
I am uncomfortable.
But even difficult moments are easier to navigate when we deal with what is actually happening rather than simultaneously reliving every past hardship and imagining every future catastrophe.
Mindfulness and meditation are not miracle treatments, and the scientific literature is mixed in some areas. But research reviewed by NCCIH suggests certain mind-and-body approaches may have useful roles for some older adults, including relaxation and management of certain symptoms.
Presence is a tool.
Not magic.
The Great Paradox of Growing Older
Perhaps one of the unexpected gifts of age is this:
We have less time ahead of us, but we may finally understand how to use time better.
When you are young, you often believe happiness is waiting somewhere in the future.
After the promotion.
After the house.
After the children grow up.
After retirement.
After you lose ten pounds.
After you have enough money.
Then one day you realize something.
Life was happening during all the waiting.
That realization doesn’t have to be sad.
It can be liberating.
You can stop postponing your life.
You can call the friend.
Take the walk.
Sit outside.
Learn something.
Dance.
Travel.
Have the dessert occasionally.
Watch the sunset.
Say what needs saying.
Forgive what can be forgiven.
And pay attention while you are doing it.
You Are Here
There is a beautiful simplicity to those three words:
You are here.
Not yesterday.
Not next year.
Here.
Right now.
Whatever age appears on your driver’s license, today is still part of your life.
Not the waiting room for your life.
Not the leftovers.
Not the epilogue.
Your life.
Growing older without becoming old may have less to do with chasing youth than with maintaining curiosity, engagement, adaptability, and attention.
We spend a great deal of energy trying to increase lifespan.
Perhaps we should also think about increasing life within the span.
Because a longer life experienced mostly through regret, worry, distraction, and anticipation is not quite the victory we imagined.
The goal should not merely be more time.
It should be more awareness of the time we already have.
So tomorrow, plan for tomorrow.
Yesterday, remember with gratitude.
But today?
Be here.
Your life is already happening.
Don’t miss it.