A few months back, I remembered reading a story about the importance of being present. It was a column in The Huffington Post by Ian Colvin, where he began with a story of a dialogue between him and his son. It started like this:
"Why were you looking down when I was skating tonight, Daddy?"
"I wasn't looking down, buddy," I answered. "I was watching you."
"But I saw you looking down, too," my son responded. "Why were you looking down?"
"Busted!" my husband laughed.
And I was busted; I had been reading and responding to work emails on my BlackBerry during my son's skating lesson.
Was I proud? No. But I was proud that I had made it home from work on time to take my son to skating; something I hadn't been able to do the week before.
Yet, what's worse, not being there, or not being present in the moment?
