Why the Present Is Harder to Live Than the Past or Future

The Courage to Be Present: Why the Now is Hardest

I always heard this everywhere: “Live in the present moment.” “Enjoy the present.” Here, now, today.

Is living in the present moment really that simple?

I found it the hardest thing to do.

We love the idea of being present, but the present is always a work in progress; it’s never finished.

Because most of the time, the present is the only time when we actually have to feel. That feeling demands that we truly live in the present moment.

Some memories suddenly become emotional and precious.

This shows the present does not feel special until it becomes the past.

Some days feel long and uncertain. The future seems scary.

Some days feel a little too late when an opportunity is lost. The present moment felt normal until it was gone.

The pressure of today, the goal, the fear of judgment, even when you are trying to express yourself.

We are wired to survive where the present feels like a threat, the future as if we are planning safety, and reflection on the past feels like reviewing to avoid mistakes.

Another two months later, it will be 2026. We are always encouraged to make new goals to feel alive. New gadgets, new achievements: the present moment never felt enough.

Study for the future.

Work hard so you will have a better future. So much so that we are trained to delay living and fail to live in the present moment.

Not knowing the value of now and today until it’s gone. Present feels ordinary; we yearn for the future that becomes the past that felt meaningful. Don’t you think we appreciate life backwards? I once reflected on how our perception of time changes depending on how we live it, how some moments feel slow, and others vanish before we notice.

Every second we waste becomes memory instantly. Just vanished without effort. We can’t hold it, we fear it. But the present feels unstructured and raw. We crave for meaning that the present has not formed yet, no rewards but just efforts. We think we are not doing enough if a moment does not show progress.

We appreciate everything when we realise they are ending or have ended.

The last day of school. It was boring, but it suddenly became a memory we cannot forget.

One day before we have a health problem. We delay signs of health problems, thinking it will be okay until it is not.

The last hug, the last kiss.

The last meal.

The last text.

Sleep soundly without pain.

The slow morning, the boring routine without rush or worry.

When you realise that overthinking is just silly and a waste of time.

The time you eat without restrictions. Eating without checking the ingredient label.

The flexibility you have with a full, healthy body to move freely.

You miss go-Karting after you had vertigo.

The inexhaustible energy that slowly showed its limit.

The last shower you had at home before surgery, and now with medical equipment all over your body while you are sleeping, hassles and painful moments needing to bring the IV stand together with you, even to the washroom.

The slightly raised cholesterol, blood pressure, or blood sugar level that you have been ignoring. That medical report does not alarm you. But it’s a time bomb ticking.

A slight blur in your vision.

A wound or tiny lump you thought would disappear by itself without further checking.

That headache you thought you could get away with a painkiller, and you felt that it was okay and a small matter that did not require any action. You can sleep it over. But there could be an unidentified cause that can take away everything.

The fatigue and sleep debt accumulation we thought sleeping all over the weekend could heal. Sometimes patience comes not from resting, but from movement: those long walks that quietly teach you to slow down and listen.

When you are young and eager to go to college. When you are in college and you are thinking of earning. When you are working, you think of life before bills and responsibilities. This constant yearning makes it impossible to fully live in the present moment.

When you miss your brother who once helped you when you fell down.

Your sister, who cried when you left her to go to college. She helped you in your homework. The days you left home for college, you missed your mom’s cooked food. The repetitive words or reminders that you think were annoying, and she is thinking whether you can adapt well in a new environment, because she has to let go of part of her duties she used to treat you, for so long since childhood. It’s strange how we only realise the meaning of ordinary moments after they’re gone: the childhood routines we once took for granted.

The last time your parents looked strong and well.

When Mom and Dad text and you put them into silence until it was….

We only recognise the good times after we lose them, and they have become a memory. We did not notice it from the start.

But why do we not appreciate our present, and instead, we are trying to escape? We lack the ability to fully live in the present moment.

Where escape feels safer.

We give excuses and numb ourselves with fake busyness, notifications. We always thought we had endless time, endless chances. The present feels risky, and we cannot hide from what we are experiencing right now.

The insecurities we carry since we were young, and they show up during adulthood.

The decisions we are scared to make.

The emotions we have been avoiding.

The present feels real. Where you actually have to sit with your feelings. It forces you to confront what’s happening inside you and around you. This is why it is so difficult to live in the present moment.

It forces you to confront what’s happening inside you and around you and requires a lot of emotional courage. Because being with ourselves is uncomfortable.

When you are in pain, you wish the time would fly.

If you are confused, you face uncertainty.

Imagine when you are taking a photo, you are already thinking about how it will look later.

When you are playing a chess game, the past move is clear and already done. The future move has unlimited imagination. The present move gives you pressure and fear of a mistake; you perceive that the present comes with risk. The fear of making a mistake is what makes it so hard to live in the present moment. I often think about how each move like in chess or in life, mirrors how we deal with time: calculation, risk, and presence.

Sharing your words today feels scary, and what you see six months later looks like courage. Growth never feels like one while it’s happening.

How about the past?

In the past, we thought we could remember clearly, but we don’t.

Instead, we remember the achievements, the “aha” moments. But we always forget the lessons and mistakes, the courage, the almost invisible no-progress days that we always wanted to reach our goals and objectives, the confusion behind that decision, negative voices that kept us stagnant and fearful, the long days and the nights we worried ourselves to sleep quietly, so no one would worry about us.

I think that our mind is a filmmaker on its own. We select, we edit, we remove, we add effects, the scenes that are ugly and boring, and only keep and play the best parts. It changes the original script, the one that’s honest and raw, to protect us, so others may like us for who we are, that pretending, masking ourselves seems to be the daily thing we do without reflecting on why we are doing this. Wearing heavy armour for fear that anyone would attack. We worry about something that may never happen.

Our mind edits to protect. To give us a story we can live with.

When time passes by, the past becomes softer because remembering everything is hard to accept and would break us, and that’s why we live inside our edited versions.

We remember the warmth and not the weight. The laughter, not the silence. It makes us think we have already lived through the hardest part, making it even harder to fully live in the present moment.

Then we escape into the next: the future.

A place of hope, wishes, expectations, results, big changes, a place where everything makes sense. Where we are stronger, successful, and wiser.

A place that feels safe because it has not happened yet, where we have a projection of hope and fear wrapped in imagination.

In this era, attention is one of the most valued currencies. Where everyone is fighting to gain attention. To sell you a dream, a product, a service, huge discounts, an investment, and if you do not purchase, you will feel the fear of missing out on big opportunities, big bonuses, and if you don’t act, you are losing. It took almost ten years for gold to hit a new high. The insane rush to buy in a few days or weeks. It took less than two weeks for the price to dip seven to eight per cent. If you check the history of the gold price, it did not change much from 1985 to 2006, and from 2013 to 2019, the graph looks boring. It stayed flat for many years. If you had or consider gold as part of your investment, you may think, “Is this worth it?” or “Do you want to continue holding it?” We never know whether the price will increase or decrease. No one can tell or predict what’s the future. Just one or a few news could affect the price. If I want to learn from this as an analogy, we can see how value does not always shout; it waits sometimes. Those who were holding were not chasing excitement; they had hope, a conviction in what they believed would do for them. They had the patience necessary to live in the present moment. Big news could cause a sudden price swing, just like how easily our emotions change. Rushing in or rushing out, our attention, the viral post, one big promise, the final phase of a new property promotion. All in to catch our attention, hasty decisions, misled by emotions but not clarity, patience, gratitude, self-discipline, health, peace, consistency, and trust. They are inner strength, inner wealth. But we chase what is loud. We react instantly, we jump because everyone else is doing it and because of that, we become vulnerable, and prone to be targeted. The last chance, or you will never have it anymore. Things like Labubu have recently gained huge popularity. I have seen not just kids have it, but also adults hanging it somewhere with them. Imagine this little weird-shaped mouth ( some call it cute) could attract so many. And it is not cheap. The craze for this toy lasted more than a year, and now it is showing a decline in popularity. And what’s next? There will always be what’s next, something that will be in the market to attract attention. And the next day, it will be flooded on social media. The cost? You will always feel empty, not enough, always dissatisfied, happiness that could just last for a while, you keep on chasing for something that your energy that never replenishes. When the world is obsessed with instant results, a shortcut to realise your dream, a big and fast way to change your life, your health, patience becomes a rare investment. Imagine, if you are not willing to start small, struggle, and figure out on the way, you don’t want to endure the pain now. Very likely, you would hope the opposite. There are legitimate ways of achieving all that, but very often, I have read and witnessed many friends and even people I don’t know fall into the trap, the popular scam (KK Park), the scam that promises whatever we don’t wish to go through. I understand they are sometimes a better, smarter way of doing things or earning, and that, I think requires knowledge, awareness, patience and wisdom. It is heartbreaking to see many unfortunate people fall into scams, illegal activities that involve human trafficking, ‘pig butchering,’ illegal lucrative investment and love scams. Employment scams. Scams that are so hard to distinguish for their authenticity.

When life feels stagnant,

when dreams take too long to show results, we may look for shortcuts. That’s where manipulation sneaks in. They sell hope that feels immediate. And in a world where attention is currency, those who hijack our attention can control our decisions. When we lose the ability to live in the present moment, we lose awareness. When we lose presence, we lose awareness. We then lose the ability to see things as they are. To be present is to pause before reacting. It sounds simple, but noticing before reacting changes everything, the space between emotion and decision is where lessons live. To sit with the slowness, the stillness, when you are expecting things to go faster. To question before trusting. To notice when something feels perfect. To have awareness, communication with friends and family, or authorities can help us not to fall into scams. The ability to live in the present moment requires you to sit with your emotions, to listen, to focus and not distract, to communicate, to show up even if you don’t feel worthy, to stay in discomfort until you learn something. It is easier to dream of the future or romanticise the past than to fully feel the moment you are in because the present requires courage, the past can never be changed, and the future has yet to come and is full of imagination.

The more you are able to live in the present moment and be aware of yourself and the world, the less likely you are to fall for scams, fake opportunities or false promises of happiness. The dreams that are sold to you don’t require any effort, but just target your emotions that control your decision. Emotions blind reason. Anyone can be a victim if we think we are smart, and that’s where we let our guard down. The future gives us hope, but we always choose the positive ones and forget the negative ones that we regret. We regret what we did not see clearly at the time. Being too kind, too trusting, and quick to believe.

The regret

is what sharpens our awareness that turns pain into protection and life lessons. Sometimes writing about what we went through helps us understand what we couldn’t see back then, and that clarity slowly becomes peace, through journaling my own experiences. The pattern, red flag, small signs we ignore, and the pain we feel after being deceived. They become part of a quiet wisdom that lives in us now.  It hurts to realise what we missed, but maybe that is how we grow gentler with ourselves. A scar can be a map. 

GSYeoh

Yeoh Guan Sun (GS Yeoh) is a Malaysian writer and blogger at gsyeoh.com. He shares reflections on slow living, mindful walking, financial minimalism, and the quiet life.

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