Anxiety and presence can't coexist

Dear Andre, (4 min read)

Last weekend, I finished the Seven Frequencies of Communication certification. Met incredible people. Had amazing meals. Learned something that's been rattling around in my head ever since:

Almost all miscommunication happens from a lack of listening.

Not a lack of talking. Not a lack of clarity. A lack of listening.

So I decided to practice. Monday through Saturday, I scheduled a meal with a friend every single day. Dinner Monday. Dinner Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday lunch. Friday lunch and dinner. Saturday, a 35 minute drive to another friend's house for food and movies.

Seven days. Seven intentional moments of presence.

Here's what happened.

The Woodworking Lesson

Monday night, my friend starts telling me about artisan woodworking.

He explains that high-quality furniture has something called "hidden margin"—tiny gaps built into the design that you can't see. When wood expands in heat or contracts in cold, those margins absorb the shift. The piece stays beautiful. Stays functional.

Cheaper furniture doesn't have this. It's built tight. No room to breathe. So when pressure comes? It cracks.

I'm sitting there holding a quessa birria taco thinking: Where do I need hidden margin in my life?

Where am I built so tight that the next season of pressure will crack me?

Where do I need space to expand and contract without breaking?

That conversation happened because I was there. Fully there. Not checking my phone. Not thinking about tomorrow's detailing jobs. Just listening.

Here's the thing...

Anxiety and presence can't coexist.

Let me say that again: Anxiety and presence can't coexist.

Anxiety lives in two places—a future you can't control, or a past you wish you could change. It's your brain trying to solve problems that don't exist yet or fix moments that are already gone.

Presence lives in one place: right here, right now.

When you choose presence, you release the future. You release the past. You trust that this moment—this conversation, this meal, this person in front of you—is exactly where you need to be.

And here's what I didn't expect: being present with someone else is also being present with God.

Because presence requires trust.

Trust that God will handle the future you're not trying to control.

Trust that He's already redeemed the past you're not trying to fix.

Trust that this moment is a gift, not an obstacle between you and whatever you think comes next.

This can also be as simple as taking a walk and listening to the birds. (they don’t worry yet are taken care of)

The Framework: Practice Presence

This isn't complicated. But it is intentional.

1. Schedule the meal. Not "we should grab coffee sometime." Actual date. Actual time. Someone you love.

2. Show up fully. Phone on silent. Face down or in your pocket so you're not tempted. Eye contact. Ask questions. Listen to the answers.

3. Notice what happens. The stories they tell. The details you catch. The shift in your own anxiety when you stop trying to be three places at once.

I had seven of these moments this week. Every single one gave me something:

Hidden margin in woodworking (Monday)

The joy in my new friend's eyes as we talked about playing drums (Tuesday)

A deep dive into character habits and wiring (Wednesday)

Celebrating a birthday and planning a June missions trip together (Thursday)

My uncle's stories from the Swiss Alps (Friday lunch)

A conversation about friendship and seeing my friend land his first paying client for his web development business. (Friday dinner)

The simple act of leaving my phone in the car during Saturday movie night and feeling the presence that created

None of that happens if I'm half-present. None of it happens if I'm checking Instagram between bites or running through my mental task list while they're talking.

Here's what's true:

It can feel challenging to balance relationships and business. I have so much drive to grow Baarns Detailing and Just Start Media. There's always another booking. Another newsletter. Another strategy to test. another text to send, or client to schedule.

But I'm also reminded that these small moments are the moments I'll remember.

The cars? I'll forget them.

The conversation about drums? That stays.

The missions trip planning? That becomes a story we'll tell for years.

My uncle's eyes lighting up describing the Swiss Alps? That's the inheritance that matters.

Your Assignment This Week:

Schedule a meal with someone you love.

It doesn't have to be fancy. Could be takeout on your couch. Could be breakfast at your kitchen table. Could be inviting them over to cook together.

But here's what matters: be there.

Create a safe space. Ask real questions. Listen like their words matter—because they do.

And notice what shifts in you when you stop borrowing anxiety from the future and start being fully alive in the present.

This is how you build a life worth living. One present moment at a time.

Well, that's all for now.

-Daniel

P.S. I'm so grateful I get to live a life where seven dinners in seven days is possible. Where my detailing business gives me the margin to say yes to the people I love. These friendships? These conversations? This is the whole point.