How Do You Know When You're In THE Moment?

I was lucky enough to go backpacking around Europe for three months with my best friend, creating some amazing memories that I will treasure forever. While these memories are incredibly dear to me, what surprised me most was that some of the moments I hold onto are the seemingly mundane ones.

Over the course of 90 days, I visited 12 countries, took 61 trains, and spent 4 days, 4 hours, and 51 minutes in total sitting on them. This gave me a lot of time to reflect — specifically on everything I was experiencing. I read countless books, listened to hours of music, and spent a worryingly long time alone with my thoughts. This time with myself made me realise that if I’m not grounded, present, and aware, I simply cannot expect to be in the moment — which in turn stops me from truly enjoying everything around me.

I believe we often mislabel what counts as a ‘core memory,’ striving for that ‘perfect’ moment without realising we are already living it. By constantly seeking something better, we risk missing the beauty of what’s happening right now. Determined not to let this happen to me, I learned to find deeper appreciation in the everyday.

Once you accept that not everything is glamorous or perfect, you start to value it more. Finding joy in imperfection is what makes life feel worthwhile. It’s that imperfection that anchors you in the present.

When I think of Paris, I remember frantically searching for the cheapest screw-top wine we could find, as we didn’t have a corkscrew, and eating fresh baguettes with thick slabs of brie. I think of the tens of thousands of steps spent traipsing around the city with my best friend. I saw beautiful architecture, ate amazing food, and admired fantastic art in the Louvre.

Paris is aptly called the City of Love, and although I visited single and with a rather large backpack permanently fused to me — which I didn’t love — I still felt a surge of affection there. I was somewhere new and exciting, with a limited supply of money and my whole life on my back. With three months of spontaneity ahead of me, I couldn’t have felt more in love with life than I did at that moment.

When we arrived in Italy in May, we were expecting sunshine and the chance to catch a tan with a well-earned Aperol Spritz in hand. While we certainly managed the Aperol portion of this plan, the same can’t be said for the tan. Unbeknown to us — until a kind waiter in Venice informed us — May is apparently the month for rain before summer arrives. So, we spent two weeks drenched — a slight change of plans.

We’d been told by friends who had visited before that the best time to visit the iconic Trevi Fountain was in the middle of the night to avoid crowds. So that’s exactly what we did. With four new friends we’d met at a hostel bar earlier that evening, we walked thirty minutes in the pouring rain to the fountain. When we arrived, we were the only people there aside from the police — soaked, but happy.

I sat by the River Seine, eating my perfect French picnic while watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle, and visited the Trevi Fountain at 3am to ensure no one else was around for the perfect view. Although these iconic moments are unforgettable, it's the company and the journey there that I think about most. Strangely, the sights themselves feel more like an afterthought.

Living in the moment encourages gratitude and appreciation, and suddenly things don’t feel as bad as you think they might. Big things don’t feel so big, and little things don’t feel so little. Sometimes you need to romanticise your life — to romanticise the mundane — and realise you are the governor of your own life. You write the story, and you live the chapters.

It feels contradictory to waste time chasing the perfect moment when, in truth, you’re already living it. As much as I’d like to say I’ve reached a state of complete self-awareness, I know I’m not quite there yet — but it’s a journey I’m on, and you should join me. Life’s a lot better when you realise the grass is actually greener on your own side.

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