There is a Zen story about a woman being chased by tigers. No matter how fast she runs, she can feel their breath on her neck and knows they are gaining on her. She comes to the edge of a cliff and it looks hopeless. Then she sees some vines dangling from the cliff, grabs on to them and lowers herself over the edge. Safe at last! But then she looks down and she sees there are tigers below her as well, waiting for her to lose her grip. She looks up again and sees a mouse gnawing at the vine she is holding. She looks to the right of her and sees a small clump of wild strawberries. She plucks a plump berry and pops it into her mouth, reveling in its sweetness.

This is how we live. There are always tigers below us and above us. We are always at the moment of death or loss. As the old saying goes, "Nobody gets out of this alive." Why are you wasting even one precious moment fearing the tigers rather than enjoying the strawberry? This "strawberry moment" is all you have.

Your tigers may be fearsome. Perhaps you are going to be laid off in two weeks. Maybe your spouse is dying. Perhaps your doctor has just given you bad news about your health. Maybe you are afraid of growing old. Perhaps you had a serious argument with a cherished friend yesterday. Maybe your parents both died when you were young. Maybe you grew up in a household with little money. No matter what your past-how horrible and difficult-no matter what your future-how scary and daunting-you can choose to live in the present moment and savor the big and small joys that are in front of you now.

I am not suggesting that you repress your grief or your anger about things that are happening or have happened in your life. On the contrary, if that is what you are feeling right now, embrace it and make a decision-what do I want to do about this? Cry? Call my friend? Update my resume and ask friends for help finding a job? Eat healthier food? Write a letter to my parents? (Even if I don't send it. Even if they are dead.) Pray to my ancestors for their help and strength? My point is that you should not spend your precious present moments dwelling on things that happened in the past, nor on things that might happen, or even certainly will happen, in the future.

If you are scheduled to be laid off from your job in two weeks, it does no good to sit around worrying about it. In fact, it does great harm to you physically, mentally, and spiritually. The ability to be in the present moment is a gift when we are faced with tigers. Despite the looming threat, we are still able to sit down and blissfully enjoy a thunderstorm, or a fresh baked cookie, or the flowers in the garden. And we are more effective at fighting tigers if and when they do attack if we are fully present. You are more likely to find a new job, or a way to save your current one, if you are completely engaged in your work and your job search.

Even in the midst of tragic, nearly unendurable loss, it is not only possible, but also important to live in the present. A woman I knew whose husband was dying of cancer taught me a lot about finding small joys in the midst of pain and tragedy. She would savor the half hour she had to herself each morning, before her husband, Jim, woke up and her caretaking role began. She would sip her coffee, enjoying the aroma, and the way the cream swirled in it like clouds. She would read the newspaper and be reminded she was not alone in her experience of tragedy. She would enjoy the simple task of rinsing her cup, and then go to her husband and kiss his face to awaken him.

They would often look out the window together, noting the movement of leaves on the walnut tree outside, delighting in the dancing shadows moving on the mowed grass. When he was strong enough, they would go for a short walk together and visit with neighbors who happened to be out. They would play with the neighborhood pets. When she bathed him, she noted every texture and mark on his skin. She would make sure that every inch of him was clean and fresh. Sometimes despair would overcome them and they would cry together: grieving that their remaining time together was short. But it seldom lasted long, because a bird singing outside, or a letter from a friend, or the simple joy of holding hands would divert their attention. They did not repress their grief, and they did not let the knowledge that he was dying rob them of the present.

Similarly, it is possible to live in the present despite a terrible past. In Nepal , I met a gentle forty-year-old monk who was a high teacher called a Khenpo. Like all the other monks, he took pleasure in the simplest activities of everyday life. Khenpo was an incredibly happy man. He had a little dog named Drolma that followed him everywhere. Khenpo didn't speak English, but he was always quick with a smile for me. When he saw me, he would point to something, a beautiful sunset or the antics of Drolma, and he would giggle or laugh. It was infectious-I always laughed with Khenpo, who celebrated his world every day.

One day I watched him as he played and tossed a ball for Drolma, laughing with joy as the little dog frolicked. As he turned, I saw the deep red scar that slashed across his eye and cheek. It was a reminder of his year in a prison camp in Tibet . When he was a young child, one of eight children, his mother had witnessed five of her children die of starvation due to a famine resulting from the Chinese occupation of Tibet . After Khenpo became a monk, his monastery was raided, and he was taken to a prison camp where he was beaten and made to work at hard labor for a year.

Khenpo never said how he got the scar or talked about his time in prison. Despite all the suffering of his life and of the Tibetan people, he never dwelled on what was. Awake and aware in the moment, he drank pleasure from every moment of his everyday world.

Reach for the strawberry. Let the tigers wait.

Another reason some people object to the idea of living in the present is because, after all, you must plan for the future, or what will become of you?

What we often fail to see is that we can only create our future if we live in the present. The present is where everything is accomplished. All works of great genius have happened in the present moment, with full attention to the task at hand, being "in the flow."

The state of flow in which you expand beyond your previous capabilities can only take place in the present moment.

The many distractions of our busy life also keep us from the present moment. Our minds are so busy and running that we have become a culture of multi-taskers. Driving the car while on the phone. Doing work while watching our child's soccer game. Eating dinner and watching the news. Faster and more.

Multi-tasking keeps you from doing any one thing well. I have found myself talking on the phone to a client and answering e-mail at the same time. I stopped this kind of multi-tasking because I realized that I was not fully attentive to the people involved and not doing the relationships justice.

Whatever we are doing, our minds are usually occupied with useless chatter and inner conversations. Our crazed monkey mind runs off on detours and field trips practicing and planning for things that may never come; going over past events or worrying about something we did or said; replaying arguments to prove to ourselves that we're right and they are wrong. The past is over and the future may never come . All you have is this moment. Can you truly be here?

What kind of "field trip" are you going on?

Do you really want to go there?

When we get caught up in the busy-ness of the mind, we are not really living. We are really not even in this world. We are in a fantasy world of past and future. The present is the only place we can free ourselves from the faulty belief systems of the past, instead of allowing our hurt child to control our lives. Awareness in the present gives us the power to choose thoughtfully and wisely how we want to respond to people and situations.

Being in the present means that you are one hundred percent present in what you are doing at that moment. If you are driving, you are driving. Period. When you are having a conversation with your child, you are totally with him or her and listening, not talking and looking through the mail, or talking and planning what to do about dinner. When you are answering an e-mail, there is nothing else in your world but that e-mail.

"This very moment is the perfect teacher," writes the American Buddhist nun Pema Chodron. "Awareness is found in our pleasure and our pain, our confusion and our wisdom. It's available in each moment of our weird, unfathomable, ordinary everyday lives."

The poet Rumi described our every moment as a "guest house" in which we have something to learn from every visitor:

This being human is a guest house

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the sham, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Embracing the power of the blank moment is an exciting way to live. It opens you up to endless possibilities, opportunities, and lessons. It allows you to create your life in every situation with intention. It may feel a little risky at first. New behaviors always are. But when you live in the present without all the past baggage and future fears, you will be amazed how light you feel!

Control your thinking. Don't let your mind control you. When your mind begins to distract you from the present with some new sidetrack, stop and ask yourself, Is this where I want to go? If it is, choose it. If it isn't, decide a new direction for yourself.