How to grow your presence
The word 'presence' is often used in connection with mindfulness. Being 'present' is taken to be desirable. But what exactly do we mean by 'presence'? And how can we practice it?
In one sense we are always present: our physical bodies are present wherever we are. In the context of mindfulness, we mean more than that: not only our body must be present, but our attention must be present as well. Being truly present requires our mind to be in the here-and-now, attending to ourselves, the task in hand, the people around us. It is interesting to note that in English the phrase 'presence of mind' is defined as the ability to make good decisions and to act quickly in a difficult situation. If our attention is distracted, we cannot expect to make good decisions or act quickly.
But presence has another dimension too. Being in the here-and-now is necessary but not sufficient. I can be in the here-and-now but nevertheless be concerned with myself–for example, if I want to look good to impress others, or because I am in pain. When my attention is in my self, the way I react to the world around me is a function of whatever I am feeling at that moment–perhaps I am frightened, or angry, or proud about something. This puts a filter between my self and the world around me. I am not open to notice what there is to notice.
Presence demands the removal of all such filters. When being present, we have nothing to achieve. We are curious and non-judgmental. And at the same time we are aware of, but not distracted by, our own needs. A consequence of this state of being is that our presence expands. We become able to exist in the world around us. Our presence opens up to include others. It is this openness that we experience when we encounter someone who is fully present: their attention embraces us.
Here are some examples of how I have experienced my own presence in different situations:
A while back I made a hash of a presentation to a group of people, and as a consequence felt stupid and ashamed. Afterwards (and on and off for several days), my mind raced with all the things I should have done or said, to the extent that I was rendered incapable of having a conversation or undertaking any but the most basic tasks. I was totally distracted by my thoughts.
When I dance the Argentine tango my presence extends beyond my self. I do not dance to look good, but to feel connection with my partner. It doesn't always work perfectly: sometimes I am too much occupied with my self (for example, if I am trying to learn a new technique; or if I have pain in a part of me). In those situations, I struggle to give enough of my attention to my partner. At other times, when things are going really well, I discover I am able to take in not just my self and my partner, but also the other couples dancing nearby on the dance floor and possibly even everyone in the room.
When I facilitate a workshop session with a group of people, I am not there for myself, but to help the participants get the most out of the situation. I need to be present for them. In such situations I give my attention to different people in turn, carefully staying open, removing my judgment and bringing my attention back to the here-and-now whenever it wanders. In time, perhaps, I will be able to give my presence fully to everyone at the same time.
So presence is not a binary state ("either I'm present or I'm absent"), but rather a continuous scale of increasing presence:
At the low end of the scale I am fully preoccupied and distracted, perhaps feeling scared, vulnerable, or in pain. My entire existence is focused on my self and my needs.
In the middle of the scale I am somewhat preoccupied, able to pay some attention to what's going on around me but not fully devoting myself to it. Some filters are in place, coloring my reactions to the world. This is the mode in which most of us function most of the time.
At the top end of the scale I am free of preoccupation, my mind is open and curious, and I am able to empathize with others. This kind of presence is felt unmistakably by people around me.
Each of us has a range of presence which we habitually use, and many people wish to expand their range. How can we practice presence and increase our range of possibility? We need to recognize that presence is a habit—a habit of mind and body—and as such something that can be learned.
As with any learned skill, practice is essential. Start by getting in the habit of noticing your own level of presence at different times in different situations. With awareness comes freedom of choice: would I prefer to be more or less present in this moment? In some situations, it may feel difficult to increase our presence at will. Unbidden thoughts come to mind almost all the time, reducing our capacity to be present. We need to learn, and practice, how to bring our mind back when it wanders, to remove our judgment, to open our curiosity. Recognised techniques, such as meditation and body-mind methods, can help. There is no magic about it, just gentle and frequent practice. In the Feldenkrais method we develop presence by:
Creating an environment where curiosity comes easily. There is nothing to achieve, and therefore no judgment, fear, or shame around failure. The lessons are structured in a playful way to encourage exploration.
Using movement to build awareness of our level of presence under guidance of a teacher and gently bringing our mind back to the task in hand whenever it gets distracted.
How do you experience your own presence and that of others? Please leave a comment.