The idea of being fully present is one of the most celebrated ideals in spirituality and psychology. It means letting go of the past, releasing the future and living fully in the now. It is often seen as a sign of healing, wisdom, and peace. But the Buddha Mind vs Trauma Mind shows us something deeper; presence is not always what it seems.
Sometimes, living in the now is not a reflection of freedom. It is a survival response.
Stillness, silence, and simplicity might look the same from the outside, but they often arise from very different places inside.
One is rooted in liberation.
The other is anchored in protection.
The Paradox of Presence
This contrast became apparent while watching a documentary about life in La Sierra based on Colombia, one of Medellín’s most violent barrios during the 1990s. The youth of the barrio were fighting wars on three fronts : against police, the army and neighbouring gangs.
In a neighbourhood shaped by conflict, a young man speaks to the camera and says something that’s stayed with me ever since (i’m paraphrasing):
“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is not promised. All I have is now.“
At first glance, it sounds like something you might hear in a Zen monastery. It echoes the same teachings found in mindfulness and meditation traditions. But the context was very different.
He wasn’t speaking from spiritual enlightenment. Instead, he was speaking from a nervous system that had no choice but to stay here, now. The past was too traumatic to revisit, and the future felt impossible to imagine.
It struck me how similar these words sounded to what I’d heard in retreats or therapy rooms. But the why behind the presence was completely different. This wasn’t presence from peace. It was presence from collapse. That was the moment I began to see the shadow in the light.
After living for several years in Colombia, I can see how I can see how 70+ years of violence has shaped a collective trauma mind. Murder, kidnappings, mass displacement, government corruption, inequality, drug wars and rebel group wars have left psychological scars across generations.
This is not exclusive to Colombia, but a reflection of any country with many years of deep conflict. A lot of people live day to day, burying the pains of the past with little trust that tomorrow will arrive.
A well known phrase reflects this:
“Mañana es Mañana” – Tomorrow is Tomorrow.
So why stress about tomorrow, right now?
The Buddha Mind: Presence Through Integration
When someone is grounded in what we might call the Buddha mind, their presence comes from a place of regulation. There’s an ease in the body. A calm spaciousness. The past is not denied, but it no longer dominates. The future isn’t obsessed over, but it isn’t feared either.
This is presence rooted in integration. A nervous system that feels safe enough to let go.
In this space, the now becomes a soft place to land. Not because the past and future don’t exist, but because they no longer control the present moment.
There’s clarity without urgency.
Stillness without dissociation.
The now is chosen, not enforced.
This is often the outcome of long term practice, inner work, and nervous system healing. It’s not always perfect but it’s anchored in freedom to move through states of past, present and future.
The Trauma Mind: Presence Through Necessity
By contrast, the trauma mind often lives in the now because it has no access to anything else. Trauma fragments the timeline. The past becomes overwhelming, distorted, or completely inaccessible. The future feels unsafe or unimaginable. And so, the only place left to land is the present – but not as a peaceful retreat. It’s a place of necessity.
This kind of presence can look calm on the outside, but inside it’s marked by tightness, shutdown, or hyper vigilance. The nervous system may be locked in freeze, or swinging between fight and flight.
There’s little room for dreaming, reflection, or planning.
Time becomes narrow; the window of tolerance shrinks.
Focus shifts to getting your needs met today.
It’s not mindfulness. It’s survival. And from the outside, it can be easily misread as presence.
But internally, it’s a clenched grip – not an open palm.
When Trauma Mimics Awakening
This is where things get even more nuanced. Many of the qualities we associate with spiritual maturity : detachment, stillness, solitude, can also show up in trauma survivors. But the internal experience is completely different.
Someone might say they don’t care about the future, or that they feel unaffected by things that used to overwhelm them. It may sound like non – attachment. But more often, it’s dissociation. There’s a difference between letting go and shutting down.
Stillness can arise from peace. Or it can come from collapse.
Solitude might be a conscious need for space. Or it could be a protective wall.
The signs on the surface look similar – but the body always knows the truth.
This is where shadow work, trauma therapy, and somatic healing become crucial. Not to pathologise, but to help us reconnect with what we’ve had to shut off in order to survive.
Healing Is Reclaiming Time
True healing doesn’t force us to stay in the now because we can’t bear to look elsewhere. Doors slowly reopen to our timeline. It allows us to revisit the past without becoming overwhelmed. And it gives us permission to imagine a future that feels safe enough to want.
When our nervous system begins to regulate, presence stops feeling like a trap. It becomes expansive. Spacious. There’s more breath. More energy. More access to the full spectrum of our lives.
And this is the shift – from presence as protection to presence as peace.
From urgency to choice.
From survival to stillness.
Final Reflections: Feel Into the Difference
Not all presence is created equal. So the question is : what kind of presence are you living in, the Buddha Mind or the Trauma Mind?
Does your stillness feel grounded, or guarded?
Does your focus on the now feel expansive, or constricted?
Are you choosing the present moment, or simply surviving it?
There is no shame in being where you are. But there is wisdom in noticing how you got there. The goal isn’t to live in the now because it’s the only place you can tolerate.
It’s to return to the now because it finally feels safe enough to be here.
