The present moment includes everything, both spiritual and material. Thich Nhat Hanh [and other spiritual teachers teach] that we can be in a meditative state while walking the streets of a big, noisy city. You don't have to go to your room and sit in the lotus position for four hours to be meditative - unless, of course, you are guided to. Even if you are guided to solitary meditation, you can carry your deeply meditative state into your daily activities, like paying the bills or doing housework. We strive to be in the present moment because God is in the present.

…To live in the present moment means that you must be consciously aware and connected with the Source of all life in every moment of life - which is why taking prayer breaks throughout the day, for instance, is such an essential part of everyday mysticism. Being in the present moment also means letting go of regret for the past or fear of the future. If you have fears about death, or about separation from your material existence or your loved ones, you will not be able to live in the present moment. Once we start plugging all of our circuits into the future or the past, we lose power rapidly because we forget how to live in the present. The purpose of prayer and meditation is to bring you back to where you belong in the present moment. To live this moment as fully as possible, right now, wherever you may be, is living in the presence of God. Zen Buddhists, who don't speak of God per se, but who have made a science of living in the present, have a saying: "When eating, just eat; when walking, just walk." Be fully present in your simplest actions and do not overlay them with fantasies, fears, regrets, and other distractions.

Take a few minutes now as you are reading these words to perform one of the most familiar spiritual exercises of mystics from all the world's great traditions: being present. It is as simple as breathing and as difficult to maintain as keeping your balance on a tightrope - which is what the mystical author of the Katha Upanishad meant when he said that the spiritual path is as narrow and as difficult to follow as walking on the edge of a razor. (Jesus seems to be paraphrasing him in the Gospel of Matthew, 7:13; "For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few.") We tend to fall to one side or the other of consciousness, whether drifting into the past with nostalgic longing or regret, or sailing into the future with elaborate fantasies and plans of what we'll do tomorrow or next year. The aim of mystical life is to remain in the ever-changing present moment, rooted only in our awareness of the unchanging Divine.

Whether you are riding on a subway or airplane, sitting at your desk or lying in bed, begin by taking note of every sound you can make out around you. Simply hear it, identify it in some way, and let it wash over and around you; then let it go. Notice the layers of distance, from the barely audible whir of a fan or ventilator or the chirping of birds just outside your window, to the more distant sounds of an oil furnace in the basement, cars passing on the street below, sirens, or bells tolling far off. Close your eyes if it helps.

Now carry on a similar process of observation for smells, including those that may be offensive, like chemical smells or the polluted odors of city air. Of course, don't ignore the many pleasant smells that may reach you from flowers or trees, the smells of food or perfume, or of your own body. Let each discrete smell enter your awareness; stay with it a moment, and then let it go, like a passing thought during meditation.

Now, use your eyes to observe details of your physical environment. Take in colors, angles, designs abstract and geometrical, textures in the wood and metal and fabric and other components of whatever structure houses you. If you're fortunate enough to be outside, notice the materials that make up the buildings around you or, alternatively, the colors and textures of the trees and grass and rock outcroppings of the natural world. Let your vision extend as far as possible, even if it is only to the corner of the ceiling in your bedroom where a cobweb wavers in the updraft from a heating unit. Notice with equanimity both the beauty of certain objects and designs, and the flaws and imperfections in them.

If there are people around you, take note of them. Or, if you are alone in a room, extend your awareness in concentric layers to other rooms of your house or apartment, to the next house over or the apartments surrounding you, to the roads and buildings beyond. Be aware that these other people are inhabiting the same world, breathing the same air, suffering the same sorrows, and aspiring to the same joys as you are. In effect, they are connected to you, however tenuous or even irritating the threads may seem that bind you together. Feel love for them at least on some level, and let that love be a reflection of the love you feel for yourself.

Finally, be aware of your own body, emotions and mind. Be alert to any physical sensations you may feel as you conduct this exercise, any feelings of heat or cold, comfort or irritation, and notice from which part of your body they emanate. Gently direct loving attention to that part of your body where you feel pain, tension, or discomfort. Without judging your body for these sensations, allow the light of the Holy Spirit to engulf them. Be aware that, with a few exceptions, we generally exist in what one modern mystic terms "an ocean of bliss." We may not be aware of the good feelings that are constantly circulating within our bodies until we allow ourselves to be still and experience them. But whatever arises is part of what you are at this moment in your journey; honor each sensation for what it is, and then release it.

Observe your emotional state during the exercise. Is it swept by feelings of impatience, awkwardness, frustration, comfort, peace, or bliss? Genuine meditation may also evoke deeper feelings and memories, as often unpleasant and troubling as fanciful or delightful. Without judging or trying to evacuate these feelings, simply look to see if there is anything you can learn about yourself from their presence. Honor them, and then let go of them. Don't let your emotions carry you off into fantasies of guilt or shame of self-aggrandizement; always brings yourself gently back to the present moment.

The mind can be especially troublesome during prolonged or even brief periods of sitting meditation and prayer. According to the classic Indian simile, the mind is like a monkey, leaping aimlessly from branch to branch, taking you with it as you attempt to follow each new thought or fantasy. It may take some time to come to terms with this "monkey mind," as it is called. Most of us never learn to completely control it, but right now that isn't absolutely necessary. At least learn to watch its vagaries, see how it takes you from concentration on the Divine to endless rumination about what your spouse or lover said to you this morning, what you'll be having for dinner, or how you'll meet all your expenses. Watch your mind doing this, remind yourself what's happening, and gently call it back to focus. That's one reason sacred images are useful tools for meditation; they give your mind something to focus on each time it wanders off into the jungle. Returning your attention to your breath is also an effective technique when the mind wanders; no judgment is implied, simply a remembrance that the breath represents the action of the Holy Spirit, the Breath of God, within you.

Throughout this process, become aware of yourself; not as an isolated individual, but as someone intimately connected to the world - not only to other beings, but also to the sounds and smells and sights that surround you. These are all expressions of God's light-energy, no matter how dim or distantly remembered, and we should never denigrate them, or matter in general, because it too comes from God. Above all, we aim to balance our awareness of the body, the mind, the emotions, and our overarching spiritual consciousness, leaving out none of these areas. To focus only on the spiritual realm and to attempt to ignore the physical, for instance, can lead to feelings of being "spaced out" or ungrounded. This realization is at the heart of what it means to be "in the world but not of the world."

You can repeat this practice virtually anytime, anywhere. Mystics often use it as a prelude to prayer and meditation, but like many an appetizer, if prepared lovingly it can sometimes serve as a main course. Being in the present moment in this way may also help to dispel some of our residual disdain for the everyday world. Maybe the problem is not that we are too absorbed in the material world, but that we are often lost in our own fantasies about it, dreaming about the past or scheming for the future, floating disconnected from both the Creator and creation - not really in the world at all. By learning to be fully present, we can anchor ourselves spiritually as well as physically. This is the heart and soul of everyday mysticism, and can perhaps be thought of as a prerequisite for prayer. At the very least, it is a solid foundation on which to build a substantial and enduring prayer life.

This excerpt is taken from Ron Roth's audio, The Healing Path of Prayer: A Modern Mystic's Guide to Spiritual Power, published by Hay House and available at all bookstores or by calling Hay House at 800/654-5126, by fax at 800/650-5115, or via www.hayhouse.com.