Ancora Imparo.

Any author will tell you: we write the books we need to read.

That’s been the heart behind everything I’ve composed over the last few years, ever since my agent gave me that timeless advice. I ask myself tough questions and then I try my very best to answer those questions truthfully. The answers become the chapters of a new book.

So as I wrote “Come Matter Here,” I was trying to answer the question: How do we learn to be here in a world that is so consumed with “getting there”?

I’d long worshipped the destination of “there” even though I could not pinpoint it on the map.

“There” was the new relationship.

“There” was the next impressive thing for Instagram.

“There” was the marriage.

“There” was the body that was leaner and stronger than last year’s body.

“There” was a place I always intended to get to but I never really came close. In my writing (and my living of the writing), I realized that “there” is just another thing we are reaching for. It is always in the distance. You never fully arrived “there.” You just pick another benchmark to strive for and it leaves you hungry every time.

I naively assumed that when I wrote all the words down and then saw them in print on a bookshelf, I’d never struggle with this topic matter again. I’d become the guru on “being where your feet are.” But I have to tell you this hasn’t happened yet.

I don’t know that I will ever stop learning the lesson behind “Come Matter Here.” I think I will always be figuring out— in one way or another— how to root myself in the present moment and call it enough.

I am beginning to think this will be the challenge of my lifetime (at least one of them). That you and I will likely spend our entire lives figuring how to root ourselves in the present moment because it’s just so hard to do.

Social media wants to steal us away from what is right in front of us.

There’s a nagging feeling that someone else might be doing it better than us.

The allure to multitask is tempting and we are constantly fed propaganda that we can “do it all” when “doing it all” really looks like spreading ourselves too thin sometimes.

But here is what I know to be true: we should never stop stepping up to this challenge and doing our best to figure out how to be here in a world that is hurried to get somewhere better. The “somewhere better” is just a false destination on the map we use to distract ourselves from the right here, right now. It’s just another thing that will steal us from what is right in front of us.

Now that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for improvement or the better that is possible for each of us but I think it’s a call to step up into the present moment and own it fully while we have it. As imperfect as the present moment might be, it’s ours and it is never coming back for us.

If you struggle to stay in the present moment and be content with what is right in front of you then I hope these words can encourage you today: I wrote the literal book on this topic and I still find it hard to be where my feet are.

I know how tempting it is to want to live in the mindset that “future you” is going to be so much better than “current you” when she finally shows up at the door but I hope you can see and savor the gold in this present moment. You bring something to the table, just as you are. Your presence at this moment matters, even if you don’t fit into your “goal jeans.” Your life is not on pause and the nagging feeling that you are “missing out” might just keep showing up until you fully step into what is right in front of you— no matter what it looks like.

I’m fully stepping into each new day. Whether that day is off-kilter or the most productive, I am stepping in and saying “thank you” to God as I approach it. Do I veer off course? Absolutely. Do I wish for things I don’t yet have? Yes, I’m only human. But each day I grow a little bit better with being thankful for what is right in front of me and saying “yes” to the moments I’m given.

I’m learning.

In the words of Michelangelo, “Ancora Imparo.”

“Still I am learning.”