The Art of Staying
- Lena Rae

- Aug 26
- 5 min read

Humanity has developed the tendency to quickly move on from one thing to the next. Ticking things off lists, rushing from appointment to appointment, filling precious gaps of time with still undone tasks, chasing achievement, productivity, and ultimately our own tail…
Days go by and we haven’t had the chance to tune into how we’re actually feeling.
You might say, well, that’s just how life is, that’s what we do because we’re required to.
Perhaps we’ve let ourselves adjust too far to this fast-paced life that is still continuously increasing its speed. We build machines to do jobs for us so we have more time, but somehow we never end up having more time? Why is that? Perhaps the notorious filling of previously gained time with another task is something we’ve learned. Maybe we can unlearn it?
I wonder, where have the slow days gone? Do you remember moments in which your mind wasn't worrying about what's still to do or what you must not forget? Do you remember spending another hour or two in bed in the morning and getting up not feeling like you’ve 'wasted' valuable time?
How often do you recall getting out of bed without having pinned the first task of the day on your mental notice board?
Observing humans in this world, I would say the majority of us have unlearned and forgotten how to be present, to notice. Our breath, our body, the current moment, our experience in the now. And I’d say with confidence, that an even bigger group of people has unlearned not just to notice, but, more importantly, how to stay with their current experience.
Let’s try and notice our breath for a moment. Following the inbreath, the outbreath, another round. Stay with it. How quickly is your mind trying to move you on to the next thing? How quickly are you urged to keep reading? Feel that silent nudge inside? Be honest.
We are living in a world that teaches us that achievement, being productive, and ‘getting on with life’ is somewhat core to our existence. That mirrors back that spending time with the sometimes so ordinary is not of value, that we're not enough, that rest needs to be earned. Sound familiar?
Even if we let ourselves sit back for a few minutes here and there, the mind nudges us on. Small precious moments of noticing, of presence, perhaps a meditation practice, are slotted into the day like any other task, sometimes only so it gets done.
Over decades, the story of productivity that society has been running has carved itself deeply into our system. It's incredibly hard to override it. Conditioning isn’t easily undone, especially when the world around us functions at an ever-increasing speed that makes us feel like we're always lagging behind.
It’s only natural that we have started feeling an inner restlessness that seems almost inextinguishable.
It's only natural that we're trying to keep up.
But at what cost?

How can there be embodied joy, fulfillment, pleasure in life, when each precious moment we notice gets discarded in the blink of an eye? We might notice and taste the first delicious sip of warm and fragrant tea, but then gulp down the rest, already in thoughts about what’s next on the schedule. We are not allowing ourselves to linger, to stay, to fully enjoy this moment, its uniqueness, and what it may bring if we just let it go on for another while. We’re not letting ourselves feel what it’s like to experience beauty. Instead of tuning into our heart to feel what it means to be alive, we let the mind tell us what’s next to do.
To stay in the presence is to savour it. Enjoyment and pleasure don’t come from noticing alone, but from giving the present moment our fullest attention while staying with it, so it can unfold right before us and share its magic in its entirety.
Take a moment to think about the things, people, moments in your life that make you feel wonder, awe, joy, and happiness? Perhaps it’s a bird singing its morning song. The sun setting in beautiful changing pastels. A pet curling up on your lap wanting scratches. A long conversation with a loved one. An extended hug with your child who’s seeking your love and nurturing. An album that brings back precious memories from your teens. Reading a good book or poem slowly and tuning into the intent of the author or poet. Lovingly baking a cake for someone dear. Tending to your flower or herb garden. Nurturing yourself through grief. Caring for someone ill. Time to observe, to contemplate, time with one another, oneself, nature. Time to feel, to exist, to savour this moment that will never repeat itself exactly as it is. There may be many more moments you can think of that spark joy.
Now imagine a life without them.

It is by trying to keep up with the fast pace this world is moving at that we start losing our ability to stay present with the most life- and joy-giving experiences that pass us by. Society doesn't deem these moments as productive or especially purposeful, so they are the first ones we cut short. It's not the moments themselves we've lost, they still exist all around us. It's our ability to stay with them.
For me, staying in these moments and experiences is what makes up life and what makes us fall in love with it. When we deny ourselves the savouring of these experiences, life can feel somewhat pretty empty.
What is life but an opportunity to experience and savour every second of it rather than to hope that the next task was already accomplished.
No flower grows only just to blossom.
No child builds a sandcastle to make it last forever.
No poet writes only just to publish their poem.
No dancer moves only to complete the dance.
No meal is eaten only for the sake of being finished.
No breath is taken only to get to the next one.
No wave rises only to reach the shore.
Perhaps life is not the journey towards the completion of tasks or the moments we are waiting for, but the moments themselves. The ordinary, fleeting, unrepeatable ones we so often hurry past.
These are some reflections that have become loud in my time overseas, as I’m slowing down, spending time with family, and encouraging myself to let my attention rest with the things I enjoy rather than moving on to the next thing.
It’s a practice that doesn’t come easy to me at all, my mind is a busy constantly nagging companion that I sometimes feel like an employee to. Yet, the slower pace here has confronted me with my inner restlessness and the compulsory need to accomplish something. So I took note and let myself explore this pattern. I let myself rest, even though some part of me insisted that I didn’t earn it or that there's something more important to do. Somehow I ended up writing about it. This text is the result of staying, of allowing myself to not just notice, but fully be with the experience as it unfolded, even though it felt a little uncomfortable at first. With it, I rediscovered my love for deep contemplation and writing.
Are there any joy-giving experiences you’re not allowing yourself to stay with these days in order to keep up with the world’s pace? What are they? Perhaps you can spare three or four full breaths today to let yourself remain in one of them.
Notice. Stay. Savour.
To live life is to be with it rather than let it pass you by.
Need some dedicated breathing space? Here are 90 minutes of purposefully crafted sound to create space for you to practice the art of staying.




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