The Time Traveler's Guide to Now
Time Space Warp #25
Hey — It’s Toffer.
I'm pretty sure I've spent half my life time traveling. Not the cool kind with a DeLorean—more like the awkward kind where you're physically at your kid's birthday party but mentally rehearsing tomorrow's presentation while simultaneously cringing about that thing you said at a party in 2008.
Time travel, it turns out, is my superpower. Just not a particularly useful one.
Estimated read time: 5 minutes
The Time-Space Continuum of Embarrassment
Take last Tuesday. I was "listening" to my son talk about his latest Pokémon battle—something about how his Pikachu was super fast and could beat Garchomp—while my brain was busy running through three different timelines:
Timeline A: Thinking about my morning meeting, where I should have said “Oh, interesting!” instead of “Well, actually...”
Timeline B: Present moment (allegedly), nodding like a wise Pokémon Professor.
Timeline C: Worrying about next week's client pitch because apparently my brain thinks that's a productive use of now
Then my son dropped the temporal anchor: “Papa, what Pokémon did I just say?”
Houston, we have a problem.
The Quantum Physics of Not Being Here
Here's what they don't tell you about presence: your mind is basically a wormhole generator. One minute you're setting the table, the next you're mentally time traveling to:
That argument you won in the shower (three years after the actual conversation)
The future where you finally use that gym membership
An alternate dimension where you became a tax accountant instead of picking up a paintbrush
I've visited all these timelines. Extensively. Sometimes simultaneously, which I'm pretty sure violates several laws of physics.
The Space-Time-Coffee Paradox
For a while, I tried to force myself to “be present” through sheer willpower. I downloaded meditation apps. I set mindfulness reminders. I even tried one of those “be here now” desktop calendars, which mostly reminded me how often I wasn't here now.
It was about as effective as trying to stop a black hole with a coffee filter.
Speaking of coffee—I realized something while making my morning brew. You know that moment when you're waiting for the coffee to kick in, and your brain feels like it's operating in multiple dimensions? That's actually how we live most of our lives.
The Multiverse of Now
Then I had this ridiculous epiphany. What if being present isn't about stopping the time travel? What if it's about being a better time traveler?
Think about it:
Past trips: Instead of getting stuck in replay mode, make it a quick visit. Wave at your past self, learn something, come back.
Future jumps: Rather than stress-projecting, treat it like tourism. Take some notes, don't try to move in.
Present moment: Make it your home base. A place to return to, not a prison to stay trapped in.
The Return Trip
These days, I'm still a time traveler. I still zone out during conversations thinking about whether robots will eventually feel offended by robot dance moves. I still replay awkward moments like they're my favorite reruns.
A Tourist's Guide to Now
If you're a fellow time traveler (and let's face it, if you have a human brain, you are), here's what I've learned:
Your mind is going to wander through time. That's not a bug, it's a feature.
The trick isn't to never leave the present—it's to be a more conscious traveler.
And maybe, just maybe, to spend a little more time in the one moment we can actually do something about.
The present, it turns out, is less like a meditation retreat and more like a really interesting layover on a much longer journey. Might as well look around while you're here.
Your Friend in Time,
Toffer (currently attempting to exist in 2025, results may vary)
P.S. If you're reading this while thinking about something else entirely, congratulations! You've just proved my point about multi-dimensional consciousness. 🤓