Pursuing Presence: Lessons from my 37th lap around the sun

I recently celebrated my 37th birthday.

If I’m being honest, I typically find myself struggling around my birthday. This happens largely because thoughts of celebration can be easily overshadowed by grief, and also because over the years, each birthday seems to carry with it the burden of expectations. 

Expectations of what I should be doing, what I should have accomplished, and what my life should look like as a woman of a certain age. 

Although today’s version of me is generally less concerned with expectations that I now realize were never mine to meet, as my birthday approaches, I inevitably feel myself deflate under the weight of all that I’ve lost, and all that I have not yet received.  

In order to combat this, over the past few years, I’ve taken to using my birthday as an opportunity to reflect, celebrate, and set intentions for the year ahead, similar to what many folks do to ring in a new year. This shift has helped me reconnect with myself during a time where my emotions can feel complicated and all consuming. It has also helped me view my goals and accomplishments in a way that honours me and my life cycle, rather than through the arbitrary constraints of the calendar year. 

My 37th lap around the sun felt tumultuous. There has been grief, anxiety, anger, shame, and sadness, but when I zoom out and look at the bigger picture, I can see that it has also been full of joy, love, accomplishment, connection, growth, and peace. 

This year held:

My first year of homeownership with my wonderful partner

My first solo road trip

My first international speaking opportunity

My first year of teaching jiu-jitsu to beginners 

My first Personal Training practicum student and sub-contractor

My first market

My second successful Self Care Day event

My second Wild Roses Festival as both attendee and presenter

My third stripe on my purple belt

Numerous learning opportunities

Countless moments of connection with clients and community

Deepening friendships and relationships

Invaluable opportunities to play, create, and be present

As I reflect upon all the good that came with this last year, it’s hard to reconcile it with the turmoil I felt at times, but the truth is, being human is complicated. The good does not wash away the bad, and in fact sometimes it exposes just how bad things really were, but if I’ve learned anything from this year, it’s that I have the capacity to hold a full spectrum of emotions and experiences, from great joy, to immense sorrow, and everything in between all at once, and that’s pretty fucking amazing. 

As I move through my next year of existence, I’m not chasing specific goals, or even trying to make the good outweigh the bad. Instead, I’m pursuing presence. 

Presence with others

Presence with my emotions

Presence in my experiences

Presence within my body

And while I’m sure that sounds great, you might be wondering what a practice in presence actually looks like? 

The truth is, I’m not one hundred percent sure, because it would likely look different for different people. 

What I have learned about myself in these 37 years however, is that presence is not something I can force, yet it can be easily disrupted.

I’ve tried for years to “quiet my mind” and “harness the flow state” by using things like meditation apps, focus timers, and following the guidance of others that seemed to have what I wanted, and sure, I’ve had some success. But the more I’ve grown to understand myself, and my unique nervous system, I’ve realized that I have to forge my own path to presence. 

Just like with exercise and eating, what works for one person, may not necessarily work for another. Instead of grabbing hold of the tools and strategies of others and running with them, expecting them to hold the key to a mindful existence, I choose to think of them as acute variables within the experiment of life. It’s up to me to test them, and determine if the results they yield are significant enough to warrant continued use. 

This year, when I sat down for my annual review, swiping through the photos and videos I accumulated between my birthdays, a few things became abundantly clear. Not only had there been so much to celebrate, I could also see the activities, actions, and environments in which I felt the most grounded and present. What I’ve realized, however, is that it’s not really the activity itself that facilitates this sense of embodiment in me, but rather how they make me feel, and what parts of me are engaged when I participate fully.

The things that seem to draw me most deeply into the present are the things that invite me to be creative, playful, curious, or engaged in problem solving. I feel present when I’m trying to figure something out, making something, learning something new, or moving in a way that allows me to experiment rather than perform. Jiu-jitsu does this for me. So does dancing, writing, puzzles, planning, and even some of the mundane problem solving that comes with navigating everyday life. Sometimes it’s as simple as putting on music while I move my body, listening to an audiobook while I walk, or finding a way to make an ordinary task a little more interesting. And when I can do these things outside, surrounded by trees, sunshine, or fresh air, even better.

I’ve also noticed that some of my most present moments have very little to do with what I’m doing at all, and everything to do with who I’m with. Playing with my niece, getting lost in conversation with a friend, laughing with my partner, connecting with clients, or sharing an experience with my community can pull me out of my head and into the moment in a way that no focus timer ever has. There is something about connection, and especially about feeling loved and known, that makes it easier to put down the things I’m carrying and actually inhabit the moment I’m in. And maybe this is why play has felt so important to me this year. When I’m truly playing, there’s nothing to accomplish and nothing to prove. I can just be.

But there is one more piece to this that I can’t ignore: safety. It is difficult to be present when some part of me is busy anticipating what might go wrong, managing uncertainty, or trying to protect me from something that hasn’t happened yet. Sometimes planning and preparing are the very things that allow me to let go and be present. Knowing that I have what I need, that I have somewhere safe to land, or that I have people I can rely on creates enough space for me to actually experience what is happening around me. Presence, I’m realizing, isn’t simply a matter of paying attention. Sometimes it requires having enough safety to stop looking for the exit.

So perhaps pursuing presence doesn’t mean learning how to be mindful every minute of every day, or finding the perfect practice that will finally teach me how to quiet my mind. Maybe it means getting curious about the conditions that help me get there. More creativity. More play. More movement. More connection. More opportunities to solve problems and learn and make things. More time outside. More love. More safety. And, perhaps most importantly, less pressure to do any of it perfectly.

At 37, I don’t think I need another list of things I should accomplish before my next birthday. I’d rather pay attention to the moments when I forget to count the years at all.