So picture this.

Cold Thursday morning. The kind where the wind reminds you that you should have grabbed a heavier jacket, but you convince yourself you’re tough enough anyway. I walk into a local restaurant to meet my friend. I arrive early — because that’s just who I am.

Now here’s the strange part: my friend, the man who treats punctuality like it’s a spiritual discipline, is not there yet.
I look around. Or at least I think I look around.

You know that “professional scan” we do? Eyes moving left to right, but the brain is already planning the next meeting? Yeah… that was me.

I tell the host, “I’ll sit and wait.” I sit down feeling organized, focused, and very important — like a mayor about to have a serious breakfast meeting.

A few minutes later my friends arrive. We sit, laugh, talk about life, probably give each other advice nobody asked for, and after about an hour I head to work feeling like I’ve already won the day.

Simple morning. Nothing special.

Except… it was.
See, one of my goals this year is to be present. I’ve even been practicing this little exercise — using my senses when I walk into new places. Notice five things I can see. Three things I can hear. Two smells. Feel the air, the chair, the moment.

Sounds very wise and put-together, right?
Well… that morning I did none of it.
I walked in like a man on a mission. Head down. Mind busy. Spirit somewhere between the parking lot and my to-do list.

Later at work, I open my texts — because I don’t let notifications boss me around. And there it is. A message that made me stop mid-scroll:
“Frankly, you could have seen **** and I and chose to look the other way.”
I read it twice.
Then a third time.

Wait… what?

Turns out two of my friends were sitting in the same restaurant the whole time. Same building. Same breakfast hour. Same me… apparently not seeing anything.
Now I’m sitting there thinking, How do you miss two full-grown humans eating breakfast? Were they invisible? Did I walk in with spiritual blinders? Was I too focused on finding my table that I forgot to look at people?

And honestly… it was a little embarrassing. Okay, a lot embarrassing.
But it was also a wake-up call.
I wasn’t present. I was on autopilot — moving through life like a man chasing the next task instead of experiencing the moment he was already in.

My wife always tells me, “Slow down and smell the roses.” That morning I didn’t smell roses. I didn’t even smell bacon — and if you know me, that alone should have raised an alarm.

So here’s what I learned from being that guy who missed his own friends in a restaurant:
Life isn’t just about arriving on time.
It’s about arriving awake.

Sometimes we’re so focused on where we’re going that we forget to notice who’s already around us — friends, laughter, small moments that make life feel full.

Now when I walk into a room, I’m trying to slow down just a little. Look a little longer. Listen a little deeper.

Because apparently, if I don’t… I might walk past you, shake your hand later, and still have no idea you were there the whole time.
And trust me — my friends are not letting me forget this story anytime soon.

Lesson:

Remember to be present where you are.

Anthony Ndungu, PhD. MBA, RN
Entrepreneur | Leader | Growth Advocate
CEO, http://www.kansashomehealth.com|www.medicashift.com|www.meadowlarkcarehomes.com
“We make lives better.”