Boxing Keeps Me Present

Most of the day my head is all over the place. The meeting I just had, the next one, the message I still haven't answered. The boxing gym is the one place where all of that goes quiet.

I notice it as soon as I walk in. Gloves thudding into heavy bags, the chains creaking as the bags swing, a skipping rope ticking away in the corner and the round timer beeping every three minutes. People breathe out hard with every punch, and hardly anyone talks. After a few minutes in there, I forget about everything outside.

In the Moment

When the round starts, I'm just there. I'm not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. There's only the person or the bag in front of me and what's happening right now.

It is a strange thing, being alert and calm at the same time. Most of life asks for one or the other. In the ring, I need both. My eyes are wide open, taking in everything at once: a shoulder starting to turn, a shift in the feet, the bag swinging back towards me. My body feels light, ready to move before I have even decided to. And yet, somewhere underneath all of that, my head is completely still. No voice running through a to-do list. No replaying of yesterday. Just quiet.

That quiet cannot be forced. It only shows up when every part of me is needed in the same moment. And the ring has a simple way of keeping me honest. If my focus slips, even for a second, I am reminded. Usually on the nose. So I stay. Right here. Right now. Nowhere else to be.

In a way, boxing reminds me of surfing in Uluwatu back then, or of floating over the rocks with a snorkel. Out there, I was just as present. Just as focused. Every sense switched on, and nothing else in my head. The difference is that boxing gives me that same feeling without needing the sea. It is right there, in the middle of a normal week, three minutes at a time.