The future continues to preoccupy me as a reliable source of

Hear the haunting reflection of Will Self, who confessed: “The future continues to preoccupy me as a reliable source of hopes, fears and anxieties, but increasingly the present seems to have no outstanding qualities of its own, being merely a way-station through which events travel to the vast shadow lands of the past.” In these words is the restless cry of the human spirit, forever torn between the hunger for tomorrow and the weight of yesterday, yet blind to the fleeting power of now. His voice is not merely lament, but revelation: that we squander the gift of life by treating the present as a corridor rather than the chamber of eternity.

To say the future preoccupies is to name the common fate of mankind. For who among us is free of the dreams and dreads of what is to come? The mind clings to visions of glory, or trembles before shadows of failure. The future is an endless loom, weaving both hope and anxiety, yet always just out of reach. Meanwhile, the past swells behind us, growing larger with each moment, a kingdom of memories and regrets where even our brightest joys turn pale in the mist of recollection. Thus the soul wanders between two realms—the unborn and the buried—forgetting that the only living moment lies in the fragile instant of the present.

Self calls the present a mere way-station, a passage through which events march on their way to become memory. This is a chilling image, for it reveals how life is too often lived: not as a flame burning brightly, but as a shadow crossing from dawn to dusk. Yet hidden in this despair is also a truth worth heeding: if the present feels empty, it is because we have not learned to dwell in it. The present is not truly hollow—it is we who make it hollow by refusing to enter it fully.

History bears witness to this struggle. Consider the story of Leo Tolstoy, who in his later years was consumed with regret over the past and fear of death in the future. For a time, he lived as Self describes—alien to the present, suffocated by memories and dread. But in his writings, especially in A Confession, he discovered a profound truth: only by surrendering to the present moment, by accepting it as the only true reality, could he find peace. It was in the ordinary—the smile of a child, the labor of the field, the quiet act of prayer—that he rediscovered life’s depth. He learned that the present, far from being a mere way-station, is the eternal door to meaning.

The wisdom of the mystics also echoes here. The desert fathers, the Zen masters, the Sufi poets—all proclaimed that eternity is not in some distant horizon, but in the now. To dwell fully in the present is to touch the timeless, to be free of the chains of regret and anxiety. The future may tease us with both fear and hope, but it is always illusion until it becomes the present. The past may haunt us, but it cannot be changed. Only the present contains the seed of transformation, of action, of joy.

The lesson, then, is radiant and urgent: awaken to the present. Do not let it slip by as a nameless corridor between memory and expectation. When you eat, taste with full awareness. When you walk, feel each step as though it were the first. When you speak to another, give them your whole attention, as though this conversation were eternity itself. In doing so, you will transform the “way-station” into a temple, the passing moment into an everlasting flame.

Practical wisdom follows: when the future overwhelms you with fear or longing, pause and return to your breath. When the past clutches at your heart with regret, remind yourself it is gone, and only now remains. Practice presence in small acts—mindful work, stillness, gratitude. Over time, these will teach you the truth the ancients knew: that heaven is not a distant promise, but a state of being found in the present moment.

So let Will Self’s lament be transfigured into a teaching: “The present is not a hollow way-station, but the eternal field in which life truly dwells.” The future will come, the past will remain, but it is in the now that your soul awakens. Do not drift as a shadow between what was and what will be. Instead, step fully into the fire of the present, and there you will find clarity, peace, and the very essence of being.