When was the last time?

In a world that moves faster than thought and louder than feeling, we are all caught in the machinery of more. More tasks, more goals, more screens, more noise. But amidst the rush, a quiet question lingers, when was the last time?

When was the last time you truly paused, not out of fatigue, but out of reverence for the moment? Most of us live by the clock, our lives tethered to calendars and notifications. But time is not just a measure; it is an offering. And the present, often overlooked, is the most generous gift we repeatedly refuse.

When did you last look at the sky, not to check the weather, but to wonder?

When did you last taste your morning coffee, not out of habit, but out of joy?

When did you last hold a conversation that wasn’t hurried, filtered, or multitasked?

There is a poetry to the ordinary that we’ve forgotten how to read. The steam curling from a cup. The weight of your breath in a quiet room. The way your name sounds in a loved one’s voice. These are not insignificant details; they are the verses that shapes our story

We often ask, what did I achieve today? Rarely do we ask, what did I feel? What did I notice? Whom did I love gently, without agenda?

When was the last time you let yourself cry, not in secret, not with shame, but with the full permission of being human?

When did you last forgive yourself for something small, and let that softness ripple outward into how you speak, move, and rest?

In our obsession with productivity, we forget that being stillis also a form of progress. That joy is not a distraction from our work, it is the reason for doing it in the first place. That presence, true presence, is not idleness, it is intimacy with existence.

You don't have to escape to a forest or fly to distant hills. Presence is not geographic; it is a practice. Sometimes, it’s simply sitting with yourself and asking: What have I missed while chasing what’s next?

So perhaps the more important question isn’t when was the last time?

It’s why not now?

Why not slow down, if only for a breath?

Why not look, and really see?

Why not feel deeply, speak kindly, love wildly, and rest completely?

Because life doesn’t just happen in milestones.

It blooms quietly, in the in-between.