The Lost Art of Being Present

The Lost Art of Being Present: What Happened to Connection?

I returned from Asia with my daughter a few months ago, and I would like to reflect on what I saw.

Or rather, what I didn't see.

Then vs. Now

In the 90s, I spent 12 years working and traveling around the world. I supported myself as I went, immersing myself in local cultures, learning from locals, getting wonderfully lost and finding amazing things as a result. I roughed it—waiting endless hours for trains, sleeping on floors, using squat toilets. Every day was an adventure.

But here's what I remember most: the connection.

We travelers talked to each other. We shared information, stories, travel tips scribbled on napkins. We bonded over shared meals and missed buses. We sat with locals who were curious about us, and we were endlessly curious about them. Those years gave me some of the best experiences of my life, not because everything was comfortable or Instagram-perfect, but because I was fully present for all of it.

Fast forward to our recent trip, and I was genuinely shocked by what I witnessed.

The Modern Traveler

One evening, my daughter and I went to a hostel near our place for dinner. The common area was full of backpackers, young people who had traveled halfway around the world for adventure.

And almost every single one of them was glued to their phone. Sitting alone. Not talking. Not bonding. Not connecting with the other travelers around them. This obviously wasn’t the only place, and is common just about everywhere around the world now.

I watched girls wait in line for 40 minutes—forty minutes—to get that perfect Instagram shot. Not to experience the place, but to prove they'd been there. To curate a moment rather than live in it. My daughter wanted that photo too.

The locals? They barely looked up anymore. They've seen too much tourism now. Too many people passing through without really seeing them. The curiosity that used to exist between travelers and locals, that beautiful exchange of cultures, felt lost.

And honestly? It broke my heart a little.

What We're Missing

I have a phone too. I get it.

But somewhere along the way, we've confused documentation with experience. We've traded connection for content. We're so busy capturing the moment that we forget to actually be in the moment.

And in doing so, we're missing the entire point of travel—of life, really.

Where the Magic Still Lives

Here's what gave me hope during our trip: the experiences:

We had the chance to connect with an old friend in Bangkok and stay at his home, meet his family and experience their day-to-day life. On one of the islands, coincedently, I reconnected with two more friends from my traveling days.

We attended a Thai cooking class where we chopped, stirred, tasted, and laughed with the locals and other travelers. Real conversation. Real learning. Real connection.

A silversmith workshop where we learned an ancient craft from someone who'd dedicated their life to it. Our hands working metal, and leaving with new jewelry.

Batik classes, yes, multiple—you know I can't resist! Learning from locals and getting to know more about their culture.

Watching my daughter surf while I sat on the beach, striking up conversations with locals. No agenda. Just presence. Those beach conversations—waiting, watching, talking—became some of my favorite memories of the entire trip.

These are the experiences I'm bringing home. Not perfect photos. Not curated moments. But real connection. Real presence. Real life.

Face-to-Face Matters

This isn't just about travel. It's about how we're living every single day.

We're more "connected" than ever, yet so many of us feel profoundly alone. We have hundreds of online friends but struggle to have a real conversation with the person sitting across from us. We scroll through other people's experiences instead of creating our own.

And I believe—deeply—that we're losing something essential to our humanity.

Human beings are wired for connection. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, in-the-same-room connection. The kind where you can read body language and hear laughter and feel the energy of being with someone, not just connected to them through a screen.

This is exactly why I created Living True You. Why I'm so passionate about bringing women together for workshops. Yes, you'll learn batik or felting. But more importantly, you'll sit shoulder-to-shoulder with other real humans. You'll talk. You'll share stories. You'll create together. You'll be present with each other.

No phones. No curated moments. Just real women having real experiences and building real connections.

My Challenge to You

Put the phone down. Not forever—just more often.

Have dinner with a friend and leave your phone in your bag.

Take a class where you learn something with your hands.

Strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Get lost (literally or figuratively) and see what you discover.

Travel somewhere and actually be there, not just document that you were there.

Create experiences, not just content.

The world is full of beauty and interesting people and amazing things to learn. But we'll miss all of it if we're too busy staring at a screen.

Life is happening right now, in real time, in three dimensions. Don't miss it.

Be present. Stay curious. Connect deeply.

Those 12 years of travel taught me that the richest experiences come not from seeing famous landmarks or getting perfect photos, but from genuine human connection. From being fully present. From immersing yourself in the moment and the people around you.

That's what I want for all of us. That's what our souls are hungry for.

So let's create more spaces—online and offline—where real connection can happen. Where we can look each other in the eye, work side by side, laugh together, and remember what it feels like to be fully alive.

When was the last time you had a truly present, phone-free experience with someone? I'd love to hear your stories of real connection.