Your Body is a Temple

We often hear the Buddhist sentiment that we should live in the present. It’s problematic advice.

On the one hand, the present is the place in time where we actually do live, so it should be simple. On the other hand, our monkey minds are so obsessed with the past (what happened, or should have happened) and the future (what we want to happen, or fear will happen) that the present gets crowded out of our consciousness and all but ignored. 

Lately, when I find myself drifting too far away from the present and missing the moments of my life as they pass me by, I try to remember this: my body is always in the present. Maybe my mind can go careening off to the stupid thing I said six months ago, or the big presentation I have to give next week, but my body can’t go there with it. If I return to my body, I return to the present by default.

What do I is just focus on all the sensations in my body. What do I hear? What do I smell? How does the air or the sun feel on my skin? What does my breath feel like as it fills my throat and lungs and then rushes out of me? Can I feel my heart beating? Can I feel the weight of my body on my chair or on the ground where I stand?

Of course, my mind still wanders, but even if I can return to my body for a few moments, it feels like a relief. It’s an escape from the chatter of my brain into a quieter place, here in the real world.