Why I Live for the Present Moment

Rheis Chang
Writing 340
Published in
11 min readApr 15, 2024

“Just be happy.” How many times have we heard that phrase? It’s always so easily said by people with seemingly perfect lives. For me, being happy has been a constant battle, a never-ending pursuit that often felt impossible to attain. One might question whether or not experiencing sadness in the early 20’s is even possible, but happiness is never guaranteed, regardless of age. I’ve chased happiness by trying to change my circumstances — new jobs, new relationships, new hobbies. But no matter where I went or what I did, that sense of deep fulfillment and contentment always seemed to elude me. I never seemed to grasp it entirely.

It was only after diving deep into exploring the meaning of true happiness that I realized the secret wasn’t in changing my external world, but in shifting my own inner perspective. That was when I was introduced to Gretchen Rubin’s book, “The Happiness Project”. Her book was instrumental in this realization. As she writes, “The days are long, but the years are short.” Those words stopped me in my tracks. How often do we get caught up in the minutiae of our daily frustrations and miss out on appreciating the bigger picture? It’s so often I worry about getting a homework assignment done or what I should eat that night, when maybe I should actually be thinking about ways to secure that full-time job or how I can mealprep for the rest of the month.

I’m sure many of you can relate to my experience of being a young “professional” in my 20s, filled with big ambitions but also constant anxiety and dissatisfaction. I’d be impatiently waiting for the weekend, counting down to my next vacation, fantasizing about greener pastures. All the while, I failed to savor the simple joys right in front of me — a warm cup of coffee in the morning, a beautiful sunset walk on campus after class, quality time with friends and loved ones.

As Rubin emphasizes, “It’s quite futile to spend unhappy times in the hopes of happy ones later.” By constantly looking ahead to the next phase, the next milestone, I was willingly sacrificing my present and eroding my own happiness. The philosophies of mindfulness and living in the moment finally started to click for me.

Now, I’m far from an enlightened Buddha — my mind still loves to race ahead and worry about the future. But I’ve slowly cultivated habits and perspectives that help anchor me to the here and now. One profound realization was that happiness is not a sustained state we eventually arrive at, but a constant practice of appreciating the small joys and beauties around us.

Let me give you a personal example from my experiences growing up: In the past, I would often get irrationally annoyed and aggravated by my mother’s constant nagging and reminders. Sitting at the kitchen table working on homework, I’d hear her voice echoing down the hallway, listing off the same repetitive chores and tasks I needed to complete.

My frustration would spike as she persisted, trying to get my attention as I furiously attempted to focus on my studies. I justified my irritated reactions by telling myself that I was just a typical angsty teenager who needed strict boundaries. Her continual reminders were unnecessary and I had always felt she was doing it just to annoy me. But in reality, my defiant attitude was rooted in confusion and lack of proper communication.

I’d arrive home from school agitated and closed off, carrying that tense mindset into every interaction. Then one day, after lashing out particularly harshly in response to a well-intentioned reminder about making my bed, it hit me — I was willingly choosing to create extreme negativity over something so insignificant. For what? Some warped perception that her nagging would affect my independence? I was rejecting the underlying care and concern motivating her words. From then on, I made a conscious choice to reframe how I received my mother’s messages. Rather than interpreting them as irrational control, I realized they stemmed from a deep wellspring of love.

I realized that my mom’s love and care for me was all that really mattered. That’s what is going to change me into a better person, a more disciplined person. I unnecessarily got mad when I could just shift my mindset into appreciating the advice my mom and dad have to offer and that they only want the best for me.

This experience with my parents illustrates the key mindset of “wanting what you have” rather than “having what you want.” As Rubin explains, “She missed the things she had while thinking about the things she didn’t have.” I’ll admit it. My parents may very well leave this planet before me, so there is no point in losing happiness from the very individuals who birthed you. In more general terms, we tend to fixate on achieving the next goal, buying the next big thing, instead of appreciating the abundance already around us whether that be people or tangible objects.

I started applying this grateful perspective to all areas of life. When I felt instances of envy over a friend’s boasting yet deserved job offer on LinkedIn, I’d pause and reminisce over my own internship experience that brought me immense joy. If I started lamenting being single and worrying about future loneliness, I’d shift to recognize the freedom and flexibility I had to spend cherished time with family and friends. Stuck in an endless zoom meeting, I’d make a mental note to enjoy my poker session that much more.

Of course, negative thoughts will still creep in despite our best efforts. The goal isn’t to entirely suppress what English writer and philosopher, Alan Watts, referred to as the “muzzy unhappiness” we all experience. It’s about not letting those fleeting feelings and emotions turn into a permanent mindset. For me, a major shift was realizing the antidote to those negative thought patterns. Whenever I caught myself slipping into a scarcity mindset of lack and dissatisfaction, I’d try and pivot to actively speaking gratitude out loud. I’d list off all the things I was thankful for in that moment, focusing on the simplest blessings I often took for granted — my health, my safety, a roof over my head, the ability to attend USC, a prestigious university. Doing this consistently created profound realignment towards abundance and appreciation.

This sense of abundance and appreciation then naturally fed into other areas like generosity and compassion. If I felt satiated and content with my life, those feelings opened space to care for others and be of service. Donating time or money to worthy causes, paying it forward with acts of kindness, giving loved ones my full presence instead of being trapped in my own head.

Another huge catalyst for embracing the present was taking up hobbies and interests that kept me firmly anchored to the current moment. For me, that became playing pickleball and tennis with my close friends.

Learning a new sport and trying to master it is not easy. It requires a lot of focus but it’s also essential to have fun and to enjoy the moment. However, in that moment time seems to slow down a little and it helps me embrace the moment I am in and to enjoy it with my friends. It takes my mind off of the countless responsibilities that I might have and allows me to focus on the joys provided to me by the universe.

An unexpected benefit has been the confidence and self-assuredness that emerges. Taking on new challenges that push my limits, then accomplishing feats I didn’t think were possible — like getting an ace on a serve, something I didn’t think I could master. Those proud moments of hard-earned growth and achievement align me with my personal values and journey. They’re reminders that happiness is derived not from abstract goals of money and status, but from tapping into our innate human potential. Seeing progress and witnessing you become better than the previous day is what generates happiness.

Speaking of our human journeys, few activities connect us more viscerally to the present than experiences out in nature. For Gretchen Rubin, one of her top happiness habits became “Starting a seed collection.” She elaborates, “Seeing the first notes of green life poking through the soil after a grey winter was electrifying.”

I can relate, in some ways. There’s something incredibly grounding about digging your hands into fertile soil, or rolling around in the dirt and just feeling nature’s warmth. Similarly, going to the beach, playing in the sand and galloping in the water is so refreshing. It just feels as if you are in a movie and who wouldn’t want to be featured in a movie? You can’t help but be rendered fully present, deeply aware of each shift in weather and season.

In that same vein, travel has been another grounding force that opens me to experiencing the here and now. Exploring new environments like the vibrant spice markets of Hong Kong, the sacred beautiful temples of Korea, or bustling metropolises like Tokyo, you’re flooded with novel sensory details that command your full presence. New bright lights and various sights, sounds, smells, and interactions that penetrate your consciousness. I remember my time studying abroad and looking out to Victoria Harbor, one of the most beautiful sights in Hong Kong. It allowed me to stop and ponder on how fast time progresses. What felt like only a month was actually the end of my study abroad experience and it was then when I decided to try and soak in all the beauty of this new country I was living in. It allowed me to appreciate my time studying in a whole new environment. It allowed me to witness the different lifestyles people live and how my life compares to it whether it be better or worse.

Those peak travel experiences burn indelible grooves into your memories and perspectives. They help refresh your frames of reference, that allow you to reset from the mental constraints of your everyday life back home. When you’re jolted out of your familiar habits and surrounding stimuli, you’re almost forced into a heightened state of presence and mindfulness. You begin to appreicate things in a different light and only then can you experience true happiness and immerse yourself in that state.

Beyond the beauty that lies within traveling to various countries, I’ve also learned to bring that same awe and inquisitiveness to my local surroundings. As Marcel Proust eloquently penned, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” As of late, I’ve begun to go on “mindful runs” through the USC neighborhood, making a point to soak in the overlooked details with a new mindset. Observing how blessed I am in all types of aspects.

The craftsmanship of architectural flourishes I’ve zipped past a thousand times. A friendly wave exchanged with a neighbor often seen but never known, just like the one who whistles every morning but wakes me up too early. Venturing just outside our comfort zones reintroduces that spark of aliveness so easily snuffed out by our ingrained habits.

his commitment to presence has also fundamentally altered my relationships, both with loved ones and in embracing each new human interaction as a sacred opportunity. Rather than checking out during conversations, caught up in impatient thoughts of what I’ll say next, I’ve learned the liberating skill of simply listening. Becoming an active listner.

Bearing witness to another’s words, vulnerabilities, idiosyncrasies without judgment or mental resistance. Creating space to fully receive them, understand their perspectives and contexts. Responding with thoughtful presence rather than reflexive apathy. Feeling the energy, heart, and intention animating their expressions beyond the literal meanings. There’s an awakening that occurs when you elect to show up fully for another’s existence. It becomes quite clear when you zone out. I’m guilty. I’ve done it before but there’s something rewarding about being there in the moment.

Meeting others from that anchored place creates countless opportunites for connection to blossom. For intimacy to deepen beyond superficiality and truly getting to know someone and embracing that moment with them. Through it all, I’ve discovered that happiness isn’t a fleeting goal to pursue relentlessly, but a way of walking through this world. It emerges from living with intention, savoring the richness in each breath and action you take, and aligning your vision with the simpler abundance around you. Or as poet Ralph Waldo Emerson sagely framed it: “The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common.”

This wisdom also is displayed throughout Gretchen Rubin’s life philosophies, such as: “There’s no shortage of opportunities to practice presence, if you’re alive to them.” And it’s those abundant moments of aliveness, stringing together like shiny beads and bright diamonds, that form the brilliant necklace of a life fully embraced.

The recent global pandemic reinforced how rapidly our world can be upended, unfolding our carefully constructed plans into chaos. In those stretches of great uncertainty, many found solace and resilience by rooting into the only certainty of the present moment. Stripped of the ability to do simple tasks we could’ve previously done, we were reminded of life’s more “generic” joys — a warm meal, family Zoom sessions, quiet neighborhood strolls.

Viktor Frankl’s poignant memoir “Man’s Search for Meaning” chronicled how imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps, he witnessed people enduring the most horrific circumstances by finding purpose and meaning in miniscule acts — giving away a small ration of bread, offering an encouraging word, taking in a vibrant sunset. Who am I to complain about my time struggling to get a job when people were struggling to stay alive. Gratitude goes a long way and I guess it becomes pretty easy to be happy and appreciate life when you think in broader terms and compare your situation to those who may be going through a tough time.

As we now emerge into this next chapter of living, it’s a potent reminder to not sleepwalk through the mundane rituals and routines. To not get lulled back into that grasping for future happiness at the sacrifice of this moment. As Jack Kornfield taught in his book, “The Wise Heart,” “If we are not fully present, we miss it all. But when we attend to the richness of this presence, the beauty begins to shine through all things.”

This isn’t about a overplayed celebration of inaction or complacency. It doesn’t mean avoiding goals and ambitions that enrich and fulfill us but rather the pursuit itself is fueled by our unwavering desire to be present. To really live in the moment so that you can experience happiness. So we’re empowered to strive while feeling peacefully content. Patient yet persevering, guided by something inside you that cannot be extinguished by outer circumstances.

So when it comes to the art of savoring this beautiful life, my contribution is this: An invitation to take in what the universe has to offer, the nourishment and beauty that’s already here, surrounding us all like a warm embrace. To dispose of that scarcity mindset of never feeling adequate or satisfied, and sink into the abundance and wholeness you already are. If you can live in the present moment, and know that there is something out there that is looking out for you in the future, I think you can be content and happy with how you are.

That’s ultimately what sustainably nurtures happiness — committing to live this precious human existence fully immersed in each breath, each sight, each heartbeat. So your laughter carries the uncontrolled joy of an interrupted present. Your actions radiate sincere careand passion and that each transition into a new chapter gradually feels less like of a burden and more like an opportunity to experience more beauty. This life is short, so why not enjoy the present. As a wise man in Kung Fu Panda once said: Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery, but Today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.

Sources:

Frankl, V. E. (1959). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.

Kornfield, J. (2008). The Wise Heart. Bantam Books.

Rubin, Gretchen. Happiness Project. HarperCollins Publishers, 2018.

Tan, C. (2012). Search Inside Yourself. HarperOne.

Watts, A. (1951). The Wisdom of Insecurity. Vintage Books.

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