"The most important person is the one you're with." This sentence shapes the thought that when your presence shares another's, that person should be your number one priority above all else, also stating that this moment is all that counts, since it's all you have.
Have I really understood that sentence, the idea behind it? I keep on feeling insecure about being present around other people. I often let my mind wonder from one stretch of the world to another when spending time with someone, and almost as often I feel bad about it afterwards. It's like I'm stuck within my subjective experience: I'm letting those unique moments go to waste by not fixating my attention on my companion or the opportunities the moment possesses. Occasionally, I've noticed, the mind-wondering is caused by the fear of facing those opportunities. Mind creates a shield by being somewhere, sometime else.
Yet I don't feel like I'm doing this completely wrong, either. I like to think of those moments (whenever I remember that every interaction is that kind of a moment) as people standing next to each other in that present time and space, letting life flow through their existence as they are as the two of them (or more), bound by mutual will to be there. It's a very sensuous image, and I'm not sure what it means to practice it. I guess it's something free of obligation, free of expectation, openness to all that comes.
I'm also striving towards making that time with the one you're with a time free of hurry; a timeless space within time. When it succeeds, when I actually forget about time, stop caring about digits and follow that rhythm interaction creates, it feels magnificent. If life has a reason, it has something to do with those moments between people.
What about those moments when you're alone? The one you're with is yourself. I guess oneself, too, deserves some priority time. How does one make existence flow like that when with oneself?