Welcome to "The Intimate Philosopher: Reflections on Life, Presence and Passion" a space where existential and phenomenological philosophy meet the nuances of intimate relationships. It is a collection of philosophical essays, personal reflections, lit reviews, and therapeutic insights.
The Intimacy of Presence
In this first “real” post, I want to welcome you to a journey into the intersection of existential philosophy and intimate relationships. Our exploration will dive into the concepts of life, presence, and passion. To start, I want to take a look at presence, a central theme in both philosophical thought and personal connections.
What is Presence?
Often, we talk about presence in terms of physical proximity. This isn’t wrong, and it’s so much more than just proximity. Presence is about connection and engagement, being mindful in our experiences. Presence is possible when we meet another person in a context absent of three things: 1) distraction, 2) agendas and 3) judgment (which, in our case, we could also call critical thinking).
Several of my favorite philosophers, Rollo May, Martin Heidegger, and Maurice Merleau-Ponty explored presence as a core element of human existence. They highlight how our understanding of ourselves comes from being-in-relationship with the world. As we go forward, you’ll notice that the words ‘with’ and ‘in’ are quite important in this type of philosophy. If presence is about connection and engagement, we have never had more ability to be connected than we are now and globally. And yet, social psychologists tell us that we’re battling a crisis of loneliness. And I would add— a significant lack of presence.
I was in session not too long ago (that’s therapist-speak for meeting with a client) talking about presence. I mentioned that presence required a cessation of distraction, agenda, or judgment. He let out something between a half-chuckle and a sigh, looked down, and shook his head. “That’s my whole life,” he said. And he wasn’t wrong— He’s also in good company with most of the rest of us much of the time.
Remember those words with and in that I just said were so important? Compare those words to how we engage online— we @ at people. We tag others so they can “@” at other people with us. And even if we have a follow-up conversation with the person we tagged or “@-ed,” it may happen in the margins of an otherwise full and busy day (distraction), be aimed at persuading them (agenda), or examining our view of them in light of this latest interaction (judgment). Again, there is nothing inherently wrong with this kind of engagement— hell, I’ll be the first to admit it’s necessary. But it’s not allowing us to be present with each other in a way that is also profoundly important.
Presence means stopping all distractions, agendas, or judgments.
We can talk another time about what a healthy proportion of the aforementioned plus presence would actually look like. But for now, I will assume your scales are tipped heavily toward distraction, agenda, and judgment. That’s not because there’s anything wrong with you— that’s just how it is these days - the default setting, if you will - unless you try to do something different. And it doesn’t have to be very long— maybe just for 1 minute, 30 seconds, or even 10. Whatever amount is greater than zero is a step in the right direction. And we’ll start with you.
Presence in Relationships starts with “I”
In our intimate relationships, presence fosters deeper connection and understanding with ourselves, our partners, and our friends. By cultivating mindfulness and engaging with and in the moment, we enhance our ability to connect in meaningful, authentic ways. There are plenty of ways to practice presence in your relationships.
However, we’ll start with your longest relationship— your relationship with you. As I’ve told hundreds of clients over the last 10 years, when it comes to making change, “Start where you stand…”
The Exercise
Take off your smartwatch. Put your phone on Do Not Disturb, or better yet, airplane mode. Get someplace quiet and comfortable.
Put your hand on your heart and close your eyes softly.
Breathe in and say to yourself, “Be here now.” Say it as an invitation rather than a command.
Exhale. Notice the difference in how your body feels when it is full of air and when it is empty.
Breathe in again and repeat the invitation, “Be here now.”
And then exhale. Do you notice any resistance? If you do, that’s okay. Notice it, and try again. Just one more time.
Inhale. “Be here now.”
Exhale. Take stock of how you feel. Is it different than three breaths earlier? I’ll venture to guess that it is.
Three breaths. That’s all it was.
And yet, for many of us, it’s exponentially more challenging to do, than it seems while reading or listening from the sidelines. Being with ourselves is, in a word, difficult. And if you grew up in a paradigm — like so many of my clients— where you were taught that your inner voice was a source of temptation or evil, it can be downright terrifying.
You may be wondering, “But what if my mind wanders?”
Of course, it’s going to wander. That’s what minds do. Notice when it wanders and bring it back to your breath. One enlightened soul whose name escapes me said, “That’s the important part. The bringing it back.” (I think it might have been The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz.
You might also be asking, “But why is it so difficult?”
Well, there are many reasons. One of the simplest is because our society has made up entire industries designed to keep us from being present: social media, pornography (for our purposes, I’m referring to the ones made by consenting adult actors, of course), drugs, alcohol, and even sex itself. We can also ‘pervert’ things like books, music, food, and exercise into barriers for presence. None of these things — yes, even the porn — are bad in an objective conceptual sense. The way they are used, however, makes all the difference.
So What’s This Have to Do With Relationships?
Well, we’re getting there. In future posts, we’ll also explore being in a relationship with others. The internet tells me that most people are only good for about 800 words, and I’m well past that as it is.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. I look forward to next time.
Extra Credit:
Oh alright. For those of you who want to take it a step further and in the direction of the bedroom, do the exercise I described before. But do it in front of the mirror. Naked. You can do it super up-close so that you can only look into your own eyes.
Often, people report “feeling silly” when they try to do something like this. Let me offer you a different interpretation:
Sometimes, we say we feel silly or dumb or [insert favorite self-deprecating adjective here] when we feel vulnerable.
The naked version of this exercise is fascinating because many times, people find it easier to have their performance of nakedness observed by others than to be truly naked and present (aka unarmored) with themselves. But let’s save that discussion for next time.
The Intimacy of Presence