May I have the pleasure of seeing you here again tomorrow, at the same café?

Presence Is Becoming a Lost Art

The other day, I came across an old phrase that stayed with me:

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you here again tomorrow, at the same café?”

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Not because it’s romantic, but because it reminded me of how different meeting someone used to be.

Back then, arranging a meeting wasn’t effortless. There were no smartphones, no instant messages, no “Text me when you’re outside.”

If you said you’d be there, you showed up.

And once you were there, you were there.

Your attention belonged to the person sitting across from you.

Today, we’re more connected than ever, yet somehow it feels like we’re paying less attention to the people right in front of us.

We’ve made communication incredibly easy.

Ironically, we’ve made presence much harder.

I notice it everywhere.

Friends sitting around the same table, each checking their phones every few minutes.

Couples at dinner, scrolling in silence.

Someone telling a story while the other person nods… without ever looking up from a screen.

What’s strange is that none of us do it because we don’t care.

We do it because we’ve become used to it.

Our phones buzz.

Our watches vibrate.

Another notification appears.

And before we even realize it, we’ve left the conversation without ever leaving our seat.

I’m not pointing fingers.

I’m writing this because I’m guilty of it too.

There are moments when I instinctively reach for my phone the second I hear it vibrate. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

Lately, though, I’ve been trying something simple.

Whenever I meet someone, I put my phone face down.

Not to prove a point.

Not because I think phones are bad.

Just to remind myself that whoever is sitting across from me deserves my full attention, even if it’s only for an hour.

It’s amazing how such a small habit changes the conversation.

People open up more.

Silences don’t feel awkward.

You start noticing expressions you would’ve missed.

You actually listen instead of waiting for your turn to speak.

I’ve realized that attention might be one of the most valuable things we can give another person.

It costs nothing.

Yet somehow, it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Technology has made our lives easier in countless ways, and I wouldn’t want to go back.

But I do wonder if we’ve accidentally traded depth for convenience.

Maybe we’ve become so busy staying connected to everyone that we’ve forgotten how to be fully present with someone.

So here’s a small challenge — for myself as much as anyone else.

The next time you’re having coffee with a friend, leave your phone face down.

The next time someone tells you about their day, resist the urge to check that notification.

The message can wait.

That moment can’t.

Years from now, I don’t think any of us will remember how quickly someone replied to our text.

But we’ll always remember the people who made us feel like, for a little while, we were the only person in the room.

Maybe that’s what real presence has always been.

Not simply sharing the same table.

But sharing the same moment.