October 2012

Just after midnight last night, my plane touched down after a long flight from Las Vegas.  I finished up 4 days in Vegas, capped by the too long, too late flight — and a body that was still trying to figure out time zones!

So, yes, I had a great time in Vegas.  And no, I did not win.  Didn’t lose, either.  Gambling isn’t much my thing.  At least not in a game, where I am pretty sure the house will win.

Which may raise the question of why I was in Vegas.  And by my own observations, that is a fair question to ask.  I was certainly surrounded by opportunity to donate to the house!

But I was there for a conference.  There to learn.  And learn, I did.  It was an excellent conference with many opportunities to learn.  The conference was designed to help authors, but was much more than that.  It was a mix of self-development, encouragement, and practical advice for experienced and aspiring authors.  Excellent stuff that kept me wide awake.

Which is the beginning of my point here.  As design would have it, I had to pass through the casino numerous times throughout the day.  Restaurants were around the edge of the casino, and when I realized I left my socks at home (long story), I had to walk right through the casino to get to the street and to a store.

During the conference, I was surrounded by wide-awake, wide-eyed, involved and present people.  We were all taking notes and listening, engaged in the presenters’ words.

Then, I would walk out of the conference and through the casino.  And there, I noticed something very different.  Throughout the casino were people seated at the slot machines, hitting buttons and pulling levers.  One hand held a drink, another held a cigarette.  And both hands ran the machine.  That was amazing enough, but the look on the faces. . . that was terrifying.

People were able to drink, smoke and gamble, all with a completely distant look.  They were spending money, taking in a number of substances, all under the guise of having a good time.  But as far as I could tell, they were so disconnected, they were not even present.  Their body was there, but their mind was elsewhere.

Which is where I get to the point here.  One group of entirely engaged and present people.  Another group of distracted, disengaged people who were “having a good time.”

It got me thinking:  how often do we really “show up” when we are with our spouse?  And how often are we there, physically, but our mind has gone elsewhere?

Guess what?  Your spouse knows it.  Your spouse knows when you have numbed out and have left the scene.  And there we have the beginnings of a marriage crisis.  Disconnect is when we stop connecting, stop being present.

The post is Presence, Presents and Present.  Let me suggest that it may be a great present to those you love to focus on giving your presence, in the present.  Our presence means we are truly engaged, truly in the moment.  We are listening, learning, and engaging.  And we are in the present moment.  Not thinking about tough times from the past, or worrying about what is coming.  Not engaging in other activities that keep us disconnected, while pretending to be there.  It is focusing and truly showing up.

My challenge to you:  give the present of your presence to those you love.  You may just learn something in the process!