The Beignet Theory of Time
How my birthday beignet revealed the time-bending magic of full attention
You know that feeling when you bite into something so delicious your brain just stops? Like the world pauses for a microsecond while your taste buds throw a tiny parade?
That's what happened with the first beignet. Sitting across from my best friend at Provisions, watching powdered sugar drift like snow onto the plate, I took that first bite and everything slowed down. The way the dough yielded, airy and warm.
The pop of berry compote.
The background noise of the restaurant seemed to fade, replaced by the simple awareness of this moment.
Just a beignet. Just a birthday breakfast.
But somehow, it felt like more.
The Strange Elasticity of Time
We talk about presence as if it were about being locked into a single moment. Stay here. Don't drift. Focus.
But what if presence isn't about freezing time at all? What if it's actually about stretching it?
I've been thinking about presence all month, writing about it, exploring it. But something clicked during my birthday celebration on Saturday that I hadn't quite grasped before.
When we're truly present, time doesn't behave normally.
It expands. Contracts. Folds in on itself like origami, creating patterns we couldn't see before.
The Aquarium Effect
"I haven't been here in over a decade," I told my friend as we wandered through the new aquarium location, faces illuminated by the blue glow of massive tanks.
There's something about watching creatures that exist in a completely different reality than yours. Fish don't worry about birthdays or deadlines or whether they're being present enough. They just... are.
I pressed my palm against the cool glass, watching a sea turtle glide by with the unhurried confidence of something that has all the time in the world.
And I felt it again. That strange stretching of the moment.
But here's the weird part. As I stood there, completely absorbed in the graceful movements of the turtle, something else happened. Memories began to surface. Not just any memories.
Birthday memories.
The Time-Folding Magic of Full Attention
"Remember when we went to Dave and Busters for my birthday that year?" I asked, still watching the turtle.
"And hiking on Antelope Island," my friend added. "That was cold."
I hadn't deliberately tried to recall past birthdays. They simply appeared, like photographs floating on the surface of water.




This is what nobody tells you about presence. When you're fully here, you somehow access the “then” too.
It's like your brain says: Oh, we're paying complete attention? Great, let me show you other times we did this exact thing.”
Presence doesn't just expand the current moment. It creates doorways to related moments across time.
Shopping Carts and Time Travel
Later, as we navigated through Scheels (because apparently, my idea of birthday fun involves contemplating more camping gear… I’m itching to go this year!), I realized something.
The quality of our attention shapes not only how we experience the present but also how we remember it in the future.
I ran my fingers along a tent fabric, imagining stars above it.
"I really need to go camping this year," I said, a declaration I make at the beginning of every spring.
My friend laughed, because he’s heard this before.
But in that ordinary moment, I felt an awareness of how this day was already becoming a memory even as I lived it.
The way we'd laugh about this later. The way this ordinary Saturday would join the collection of birthday memories, taking its place alongside Dave and Busters and Antelope Island.
Presence isn't just about being here now. It's about creating better memories for your future self to revisit.
Mole, Cake, and Memory-Making
By evening, with mole sauce and birthday cake, I found myself thinking about the strange relationship between presence and memory.
We often think memory-making requires effort. Taking photos. Making mental notes. Trying to hold onto things even as they're happening.
But what if the best way to remember something is simply to be completely there for it?
No filters. No narration. No mental multitasking.
Just pure attention.
Because attention is like light exposure on photographic film. The more you give, the clearer and more vivid the image that develops.
The Birthday Time Machine
Our birthdays are strange time machines. Each one connects us to all the others—past and future.
But presence might be the control panel that determines how vividly we experience these connections. How richly we can access the memories. How meaningfully we can feel the continuity of our own story.
I wonder how many moments I've lost by being physically present but mentally elsewhere.
I wonder how many moments I've truly saved by giving them my full attention.
What if presence is less about staying in the moment and more about fully developing it—so it exists more vividly across the timeline of your life?
The Beignet Theory of Time
That night, I thought about the beignet again. Such a small thing.
But when you're fully present, nothing is really small.
Every moment has its own universe of sensation, meaning, and connection. Time stretches to accommodate all of it, if only we notice.
That's the secret spell of presence. Not that it keeps you in the present, but that it makes the present large enough to hold everything—including the past, including the future, including all the tiny miracles we usually miss.
Like birthdays with best friends. Like the perfect beignet. Like the way a single day can somehow contain all your days, if you're paying attention.
About Alex
I’m equal parts old soul and curious wanderer, a farmer boy at heart, and a writer whenever I can corral my ADHD. Ultimately, I write for those who crave rest in a world that never pauses.
As a political psychologist, yoga therapist, and integrative coach—anchored by both research and lived experience—I delve into questions of identity, connection, and wholeness, which are the foundation of my Substack publication, Life as I See It.
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Thank you, Jules!
Yes, I feel like the universe gives us lots of reminders to be present. This year, I've been trying to be attuned to them. I'm sure I still miss tons of them :) But what a world of a difference it has made in my everyday life!
Oh, mole sauce is perhaps my most favorite sauce. It is an incredibly rich, nuanced, and flavorful Mexican sauce. It has a delightful velvety flavor to it. There are different kinds, some are smokier, some are sweeter. They are made with lots of pepper and yet they aren't overly spicy. They just make my mouth explode with flavor!
Okay, Alex, WHEN WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY?! Happy belated!
Second, yes, please to the beignet! If I didn't need to avoid gluten and dairy, I'd be all up in that. It looked FABULOUS.
Also, about time: I think about this a lot. I like your perspective about slowing time down. I think this can actually be done, because we experience time in our minds. What occurred to me as I read this was what my spiritual director once told me about the difference between kairos and kronos time: kairos being the subjective/qualitative experience of time, while kronos is the chronological "clock time" that tends to rule our days.
I am choosing more of kairos, which means, yes, a slowing or stopping of time in micro-moments. It's interesting what happens when I savor the quiet invitations to enter into this space and time, which I remember I will never experience again.