The Gift of the Present

Today, I listened to a wonderful message from a guest preacher at my church. One of the most important truths I received from him was the concept of being a "non-anxious presence." The gist of this is that we can be, and should be, fully "present" at what we are currently about. We should give our attention to the task, or the conversation, or the relationship, that is at hand. How often are we distracted, half-hearted, sort of listening or watching or doing? How often is our ever-faster-paced culture dictating that we multi-task, sometimes to the detriment and even danger of ourselves and those around us?
When was the last time you just sat somewhere with no other reason than to just sit there? When was the last time you truly listened to someone with both your ears, and looked at them with both your eyes? When did you last talk on the phone and not do something at the same time? When did you last sit or kneel in silence before God, with no concern for time or schedule or electronic intrusion? When did you last appreciate the immeasurable miracle of your life and simply enjoy the sounds, sights, and smells around you?
If we could only be fully present with each and every moment, perhaps we would see the incredible value in those moments. Sure, there are some tasks that seem pointless, or extraneous, or simply necessary parts of life, but those are the ones we can intentionally add meaning to (look at some of the earlier entries for my ideas, then add your own). But some things we do have intrinsic value already. We only need to pay attention. For instance, when your friend calls you and says "I really need to talk," it might be the time to put your schedule aside, and shut your computer off. When your child says, "Mom, can you tuck me in?" you can let the laundry and the e-mail wait. When you get this nagging urge to apologize to somebody, it might be your only opportunity.
How precious is this moment? How important it is to be fully alive in it?