“You are not your thoughts. You are the observer of your thoughts.” ~Amit Ray
I was in the middle of responding to my third “urgent” email of the morning when I realized I hadn’t tasted my coffee.
The cup sat there, half-empty and cold. I had no memory of drinking it.
That small moment became the crack that let the light in. Because if I couldn’t remember drinking my coffee, something I claimed to love, something I looked forward to every morning, what else was I missing?
The answer, I would soon discover, was almost everything.
The Illusion of Productive Chaos
For years, I wore my stress like a badge of honor. I was the person who responded to emails at midnight, who took calls during lunch, who never said no.
I told myself I was being productive. Dedicated. A team player.
But the truth was darker. I was running on autopilot, moving from task to task, deadline to deadline, crisis to crisis, without ever stopping to check in with myself.
My body started sending signals, tension headaches, a tight jaw that I’d clench without realizing, shoulders that lived somewhere near my ears. I ignored them all.
Until I couldn’t anymore.
The Breaking Point
It happened on an ordinary Tuesday. I was driving to work, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white, mentally rehearsing a presentation I had to give later.
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.
My chest felt tight, my heart was racing, and for a terrifying moment, I thought something was seriously wrong. I pulled over, hands shaking, convinced I was having a heart attack.
Twenty minutes later, after the wave passed, I sat there in my parked car and felt something I hadn’t felt in years: the profound absence of myself in my own life.
I had been so busy managing stress that I forgot I was the one experiencing it.
The Invisible Prison
What I learned in the months that followed changed everything. Constant stress doesn’t just exhaust us; it disconnects us from the present moment.
When we’re chronically stressed, our nervous system stays in fight-or-flight mode. Our mind becomes obsessed with the past (what went wrong, what we should have done) or the future (what might go wrong, what we need to prevent).
The present moment, the only place where life actually happens, becomes invisible.
I realized I had spent years living everywhere except where I actually was. At dinner with friends, I was thinking about tomorrow’s meeting. During meetings, I was replaying earlier conversations. Walking my dog, I was mentally drafting emails.
I was present for everything except my actual life.
The Small Practice That Changed Everything
I didn’t fix this overnight. There was no magic moment. But there was a beginning.
It started with my breath.
Not special breathing techniques or complicated exercises. Just noticing that I was breathing. Feeling the air move in and out of my body.
I began with thirty seconds. That’s it. Thirty seconds of just being with my breath, several times a day.
In the bathroom. Before opening my laptop. While waiting for my computer to start up. In line at the coffee shop.
Those thirty seconds became my anchor. My reminder that I was alive, right now, in this moment.
Coming Home to Myself
What surprised me most was how much those tiny moments rippled outward. When I practiced being present with my breath, I started noticing other things.
The warmth of the sun through my office window. The taste of my lunch. The sound of rain on the roof. My colleague’s smile.
But more than that, I started noticing my own internal landscape. The thought patterns that drove my stress. The beliefs that kept me running. The fear underneath the constant doing.
And with that noticing came space. Space to choose differently.
The Myths We Believe About Stress
I used to believe that stress was just the price of a meaningful career. That being constantly busy meant I was important. That if I slowed down, everything would fall apart.
None of that was true.
What I discovered instead: presence doesn’t make us less productive. It makes us more effective. When we’re actually here, we make better decisions. We communicate more clearly. We solve problems more creatively.
And paradoxically, we get more done, because we’re not wasting energy on mental time travel, constantly pulling ourselves between past regrets and future anxieties.
Practical Steps Back to Presence
Here’s what helped me return to my life, one moment at a time:
Start microscopically small.
Don’t try to meditate for twenty minutes if you’ve never done it before. Start with three conscious breaths. That’s enough. Build from there.
Create presence anchors throughout your day.
Pick ordinary moments, before checking your phone, before entering a meeting, before eating, and use them as reminders to take one conscious breath.
Notice without judgment.
When you catch yourself stressed or distracted (which will be often), don’t criticize yourself. Simply notice: “Ah, I’m stressed right now.” That noticing itself is presence.
Feel your body.
Several times a day, do a quick scan. Where are you holding tension? Can you soften your jaw? Drop your shoulders? Unclench your hands? Your body holds the map back to the present moment.
Name one thing you can sense.
Right now, what’s one thing you can see, hear, or feel? This simple practice interrupts rumination and drops you into the here and now.
Give yourself permission to pause.
You don’t have to respond to everything immediately. Taking two minutes to center yourself before replying often leads to better responses than firing off something while stressed.
The Practice is the Point
I won’t lie and say my life is stress-free now. I still have deadlines, challenges, and difficult days. My mind still wanders. I still get caught up in worries about the future.
But now I know the way back. I have the tools to return to this moment, to this breath, to this one precious life I’m actually living.
And that changes everything.
Because the paradox of presence is this: when we finally stop running from the present moment, we discover it’s the only place where peace exists. Not in some imagined future when everything is perfect, but right here, right now, in the midst of our messy, imperfect, beautiful lives.
An Invitation
If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in my story, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re just human, trying to navigate an increasingly demanding world.
And there’s a way back to yourself. It’s not complicated, though it requires practice. It doesn’t demand hours of your time, though it asks for your commitment.
It simply requires that you show up for the life you’re already living.
Start today. Start with one breath. Notice that you’re breathing. Feel the air moving in and out of your body.
That’s it. That’s the beginning.
The rest will follow, one present moment at a time.
About Nine Mua
Nina Mua is a certified yoga instructor, Theta healer, and founder of Chakra Hours, a Dallas-based corporate wellness company that brings mindfulness, movement, and stress relief directly to workplaces. After experiencing her own journey from chronic stress to presence, she now helps busy professionals reconnect with themselves through accessible wellness practices. Learn more about bringing mindfulness to your workplace at www.chakrahours.com.
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