It’s the question that changed everything for me:
Are you here, or in your head?
It’s so simple.
So blunt.
So kind.
Because most of us live in loops.
Worry loops. Planning loops. Past conversations on repeat.
Whole imagined disasters that haven’t happened, and maybe never will.
The body is here.
But the mind is running simulations.
And we don’t even notice we’ve left the room.
Applied Zen isn’t about fixing the mind.
It’s about noticing when we’ve left,
and gently, kindly, coming back.
The breath is one way in.
The feet are another.
The feeling of your hands in your lap.
The sound of your dog stretching.
The weight of gravity holding you to the earth.
These are not small things.
These are lifelines.
Because the more time we spend in the head,
the more distant the body becomes.
And when we stop feeling the body,
we stop feeling safe.
Zen doesn’t say, “don’t think.”
Zen says, “notice where you are.”
So I ask:
Are you in the spiral?
Are you halfway through a fake argument?
Are you stuck in a version of yourself that no longer exists?
Pause.
Breathe.
Come back.
To this sip of tea.
To this patch of sunlight.
To this breath, moving in and out of a body that has carried you through more than you remember.
You don’t have to escape your mind.
You just have to return to your life.
The body is always in the now.
That’s why it’s the gateway.
And presence isn’t a performance.
It’s a remembering.
So ask yourself softly, a hundred times a day if you need to:
Are you here, love? Or did you leave again?
And every time you notice, that’s it.
That’s the practice.
That’s the whole path.
Because the moment you return,
you are home.