Written Friday 13th Sept.
I’ve walked these aisles so many times before, but never with this perspective—never before has a trip to the supermarket brought me so much joy. Usually, it’s an exercise in efficiency—in and out with precision. But tonight, I find myself walking slowly, smiling, and deeply attuned to the subtle glimmers around me.
Maybe it started with the little dude near the entrance, no older than 4, singing his heart out while his Dad tried desperately to wrangle him and his slighter older brother. It lit something golden inside of me—maybe empathy, seeing myself in the Dad’s shoes—that ‘quick’ trip to the shops is rarely that with little humans in tow. Or maybe it was just the beauty of seeing a kid so free in self-expression, and a parent completely welcoming of that, rather than shushing it—few things inspire me more these days than loving parents.
As I head toward the check out I lock eyes with a gentleman slightly older than me. We exchange a passing g’day, filled with the warmth of two people who know each other well, though we’d never met. I knew at that moment there was an exceedingly goofy smile on my face, and I can’t help but think he noticed it, reciprocating the warmth—contagion.
This is what it feels like to be present I think to myself—deeply engaged with the world around me, rather than entangled in my own internal world.
I round around the corner to pick up our dinner and while I wait the young fella working at the shop opens a convo with ‘much planned for the weekend?’.
‘We’re moving house’ I respond. We tread the waters of small talk, then he shares that his family moved to Australia from England only seven months ago. His accent had been muffled by the noise of the shop, and I kick myself a little for missing it. He’s young, maybe 16 or 18, and I can sense how challenging that must be, but he seems like a remarkable kid—oozing friendliness in a world that often squeezes that out of kids like him.
I leave with dinner in hand and that smile further entrenched on my face—in our fleeting 5min conversation he brought more joy into my night and I hope I did the same for him.
‘It’s a beautiful night’ I text Halee—feeling a true appreciation for life.
This is what it feels like to be present.
‘How am I here now?’ I think to myself on the drive home. Today has been beyond enormous—how is it that I’m so deeply engaged with my surroundings? Shouldn’t I be exhausted? Depleted? It’s after 6pm, we’re two days out from handing over the keys, alongside working and raising two energetic little humans with endless appetites for love, I’ve just spent two hours frantically packing our belongings into a storage shed that now very much resembles a tin of sardines and, like it often is when moving, every second of the day has been carefully allocated to those tedious little tasks that just need to be ticked off.
In many ways, we’re running off fumes.
But here I am, stoked—energised. Why? How?
For a variety of reasons I’ve been particularly entangled in my internal world these past 4-6 weeks. Not in any kind of catastrophic or struggling sense—it’s just been a period of heightened and often repetitive thought, brought on by throwing myself into some big moments and exciting but challenging happenings in our world.
This experience—one of complete joy—might simply reflect finding some mental whitespace for the first time in a while. Finally stepping outside my mind and engaging with life as it is, as it’s happening, right in front of me.
Maybe this is what it feels like to engage with life, rather than constantly anticipating or predicting it.
Hope you’ve had a beautiful past few weeks legends.
With love.
Jesse
Beautiful man. Thank you for being such an inspiring role model for young guys like me who sometimes worry that life slows down when we have kids. Your openness and willingness to share have shown that it's really just the beginning. New chapters open up, and life keeps evolving in amazing ways.
Beautiful reminder! (She says after reading whilst cooking breakfast and kicking the ball for the dog 🤣)