The Power of Being Present
A basic definition of mindfulness offered by Ram Dass is be here now. The definition may be basic, but the act requires some practice.
Often, we are not responding to the present moment but from habit energy. There’s nothing inherently wrong with habit. In fact, we work sometimes to create habits that are good for us such as taking supplements (oops, I forgot those last night) or exercising and meditating in the morning (okay, did those).
But habit energy is more like walking around in a fog. We go through the motions, responding to the past rather than to the actual here and now.
In honor of Groundhog Day, which was February 2, the best example I can think of for the problem of habit energy is the 1993 movie by the same name starring Bill Murray.
Murray’s character, Phil, shares his name with the famous Punxsutawney Phil, whom crowds gather around hoping that he won’t see his shadow bringing six more weeks of winter. The movie’s Phil is a disgruntled, abrasive weatherman sent to cover the story — again (four years in a row).
After a grumpy day covering the event with cameraman Larry and producer Rita, Phil awakens the next day to find himself in a time loop. The alarm is once again going off at 6 am tuned to a radio station playing “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher.
Phil attempts to change things by changing his external circumstances. He says different things and goes to different locations. While the small things might alter on any given repeated February 2, such as how people reply to him, his essential circumstances of it being Groundhog Day every day don’t. He encounters the same people, the same places.
After a while, Phil realizes this means he can do and say whatever he wants without consequences since he’s the only one who remembers the day before, so he seduces, punches, and overeats.
This brings only dissatisfaction, and despair sets in, so he repeatedly attempts suicide, always again waking up to Sonny and Cher and February 2.
Not only has the day not changed, but for who knows how many days in a row, Phil has not changed. He is the same emotionally shut down, rude, and angry man who started the movie. Phil recognizes this, telling Rita, after a nice day spent together, that she will forget all of it “and treat me like a jerk again” when the next day fails to appear again. When she objects, he responds, “It’s okay. I am a jerk.”
Eventually, though, Phil changes by embracing the opportunity of limitless time. No consequences also give him the freedom to be more open and engaged, so he finally does, learning at last how to connect with others so that he becomes kind and compassionate. He finally asks Larry about his life and takes the opportunity to learn about Rita out of genuine curiosity, not for personal gain. He is able to take risks in his relationships.
I would argue that the movie is demonstrating at a more literal level what our own lives might feel like if we live like Phil. Every day feels the same with all of the same patterns if we live each day habitually, not allowing new experience and refusing to embrace our own ability to change and grow — because growth and change feel scary.
Once Phil can learn to live — truly live — he changes, which means what surrounds him changes. Habit energy has dissipated.
It’s not enough to look externally trying to change our life circumstances in order to find happiness. There will be many times in our lives where that’s impossible anyway. We may not be in a time loop, but we are in circumstances over which we don’t have control.
However, we do have the power to live in the here and now, to open ourselves up to whatever we are experiencing in the present with curiosity, not fear and resistance, not habit energy.
Even if, thanks to a groundhog in Pennsylvania, the here and now might be icy and cold.
