Chapter One · Presence

The Watch

Entry No. 001

Learning to notice the life that's already unfolding around us.

There was a weekend when I took off my watch.

Not because I wanted to forget about time.
Because I wanted to stop measuring it.

The phone stayed in the bedroom. The hours passed without anyone keeping score.

Instead, I noticed things I often miss.

Rain falling across a wooden porch.
Coffee shared while the morning was still quiet.
Children laughing as they learned something new.
A disc flying a little farther than the throw before.
Fireworks fading into a summer night.
Conversations that lasted longer than expected.

None of those moments were extraordinary on their own.

There was no big event.
Nothing crossed off a list.
Nothing accomplished that I could point to afterward and say, There. That's what made the weekend worthwhile.

But together, those small moments reminded me of something I never want to forget.

The life I'm working so hard to build isn't waiting for me somewhere down the road.

It's already here.

I think that's easy to lose sight of.

We spend so much of our lives looking toward the next thing—the end of the workday, the weekend, the next trip, the next milestone, the day when things finally slow down.

But somehow, the next thing always becomes the current thing.

And then we're looking ahead again.

There will always be another task that needs finished.
Another place we need to be.
Another notification asking for our attention.

The world is very good at giving us reasons to hurry.

Maybe that's why we have to get better at finding reasons not to.

To sit on the porch a little longer.

To finish the coffee before getting up.

To watch the fire burn down instead of checking the time.

To listen when someone you love starts telling a story you've probably heard before.

To notice the ordinary things while they're still happening.

Because someday, those ordinary things may be the ones we miss the most.

I still wear my watch.

But every now and then, I take it off.

Not to escape from life.

Just to make sure I'm actually there for it.

That's what Cedar Horizon is.

A reminder to slow down long enough to notice.

A reminder that a meaningful life isn't always somewhere beyond the horizon.

Sometimes it's already sitting beside you.

Stay awhile.