I’m on a quest to deconstruct the art of presence and understand where it really comes from.
There’s one question that keeps me up:
​How do we measure presence?

These days, we measure everything.
Our sleep, our workouts. Heart rate. Stress. Steps.
Naturally, I started wondering whether presence could be measured too.

But the very moment I start asking myself, “Am I present enough?” …I’m probably no longer present.
It’s almost like sleep.
You can’t force yourself to fall asleep. You create the conditions and sleep happens.

I think presence works in a very similar way.
​You don’t command it.
You invite it.

When I drink my morning coffee without reaching for my phone. When I’m grilling fish with friends. When I’m staring at the sea. When I spend an hour looking at the stars. When I laugh so hard that I completely forget about time.
I’m never thinking: “Wow, I’m so present right now.”
​I’m simply there.
Maybe that’s the whole point.

Over the last year, we’ve talked about movement, protecting your inputs, slowing down, gratitude, perspective, and presence.
I now realize those weren’t really lessons about presence.
They were all exploring the same question:
​What creates the conditions where presence becomes more likely?

And I think that’s where our attention should go.
Better sleep.
Fewer interruptions.
Movement.
Time in nature.
Morning coffee without a phone.
Long conversations.
A meal that lasts two hours instead of twenty minutes.​
​
​None of those things guarantee presence.
But every single one of them can increase the probability of it.
​
Maybe that’s what we should become better at measuring.
More importantly, maybe that’s what we should become better at creating.
Because presence isn’t something you force.
It’s something that quietly appears when enough of the right conditions are in place.
​

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

In summer, one of my favorite ways to practice fyaka is through dining.
Especially when you have enough time to do the whole shebang.

Picture this.
It’s super hot and sunny. You’re on the terrace. The crickets are the background noise. Your phone is away, notifications silenced.

Talk about a perfect setup.

We bring out a grappa, the first one we want to try. A great start indeed.
My favorite is carob. If you haven’t tried it, I highly recommend it. The smell overpowers the strong taste, and you’ve got a mouthful.

We start with marinated anchovies, covered with sea fennel, capers, and lots of olive oil.
I’ve got oregano I harvested and dried myself, so I decide at the last second to sprinkle it on top.
You dip the bread in that and pick up a little bit of everything. Olive oil dripping every which way. But you can lick your fingers.

Parallel to all that, I’ve got the fire going. The grill is getting ready.
The fire makes those crackling sounds. A perfect back vocal to the crickets.

As the appetizers keep disappearing, I put the fish on the grill and reach for the mandatory grilling drink: a glass of white wine. This is not about savoring the wine. It’s about replenishing what you sweat standing next to a grill. And there’s something extremely satisfying about sweating in 32°C / 90°F. Must be knowing the effort will result in a delicious meal.

I bring the fish over to the laughs of the group. More back vocals for the crickets.
The fish is perfectly cooked, if I dare say, now covered in olive oil, the ultimate Mediterranean seasoning.

And now we take time.
There’s no rush. We savor every moment.
The cricket concert will last. There’s no doubt about that.

Then comes the crescendo: I descend into the lounge chair and doze off in a minute.
The sweetest power nap setting in the world.

And as I close my eyes, I think: thank you, universe. This was simple and perfect.

Here’s the thing I want you to notice.
For those three hours, nobody reached for a phone.
Nobody wanted to be anywhere else.
Presence isn’t always something you sit still for. Sometimes you can taste it.

So this week, the invitation is delicious.
Pick one meal. Clear enough time, cook slow, eat slower, and let the nap happen.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

Everything that feels urgent right now will be forgotten.
Not most of it. All of it.

I don’t say this in a dark way. I say it as a reality check. We are here to enjoy this life, take care of the people we love, and be present enough to actually notice it.

I’m writing this from Vis, a perfect little island that still somehow feels untouched in all the right ways. The fact that Andrea and I can do this, move between work and fyaka, still boggles my mind.

It’s early in the morning, everybody is still asleep. It’s just me, coffee, and the sun coming up over the sea. I’m looking at olive trees, vineyards, and the sea in the distance.

But I’m still thinking about last night’s sky.

Vis has a beautiful night sky because there isn’t much light pollution here. We were counting stars, completely away from screens, sitting there in the dark.

And I started thinking about time.

Hundreds of years ago, could our ancestors have imagined that we would be living and working like this?

I randomly imagined my great-grandfather sitting on the terrace, looking up at the same sky. What was he worried about? What was his version of “everything is moving too fast”?

And then I thought about hundreds of years from now.

Someone will sit on this same terrace, look at the same sky, and laugh about the way we lived and worked. 

The sky always gives you perspective.
The urgency we feel today is real, that’s not a lie.
Some things do matter and need action

In the larger frame, most of it is temporary.

The loudest things in your life will probably be forgotten. But the simple happy times, the times when you are at peace with yourself, those are the ones you’ll carry.

And the more often you create those moments, the more they build you.

So maybe the invitation this week is very simple.

Go outside at night and look up.
Stay there longer than feels comfortable, until it starts feeling exactly right.

That is not time lost.
That is you under the same sky, finally here for it.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

I’m writing from the island of Korčula this week.

Picture this. A small bay, a handful of houses, kids roaming free. A fisherman next door goes out early at sea, and we buy the fish from him and grill it. We ‘drown’ the fish in olive oil and wine. The sun hits hard and we doze off in the deep shade of the olive tree.

To me, this is perfection.

I’m still working. The laptop is with me, and I move between work and fyaka, per usual.

But something has been hovering over me for a while.

I noticed an insane increase in the algorithm force-feeding me negativity, whichever app I opened, and it was becoming too much. I do want to know what’s happening in the world, like all of us, but lately it’s just deeply disturbing.

So I did what I always do when something threatens my health.
I took action.

I went into my socials and deactivated them indefinitely.
I blocked every media outlet I follow. Not kidding, all of them. (The iPhone has a native feature for it.)

I kept LinkedIn, capped at 20 minutes a day. There’s a different kind of mumbo jumbo over there, but that’s another topic.

The moment I blocked it all, I felt the pressure lift, it felt so good.

I’m writing this having just finished a video call, sitting in a beach bar, the sun glistening between two small islands in front of me. It looks like a runway the sun laid down just for the seagulls. At least that’s how I see it.

The noise was never really keeping me informed.
It was just jeopardizing moments like this.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

This topic is extremely important to me.

It’s something I’ve been debating for a long time, and I’m fully aware how much presence is needed to really understand it.

Because at the end of the day, there really is no right way to do it.
Whatever it is that you want to do.

I believe this debate has three layers.

The first one is judgment.

I always wanted to build an impactful company. Am I there yet?
Well, judging by the general or public opinion, or traditional measures of success, I’m not.

Judging by my own measurement, I’m exactly where I want to be.

So the question becomes: who is the judge?

Am I the judge? Is it society? Competitors? Or some imaginary audience in our head?

The “beauty” of my success lies in how I perceive the journey, how much I enjoy it,
and whether it feels true to me.

The second layer is criteria.

Who makes the rules?

People online? Your parents? The market?
The people who don’t even know what you’re trying to build?

In the morning, during my first fyaka time, I’m sipping my coffee. No screens and no noise.
I remind myself that there are no rules outside of the ones I choose to live by.

Sounds a bit preposterous, I know.

But isn’t it our duty to create our own criteria for what makes us happy?
If we’re not happy, what’s it all for?

And the final layer is the feeling.

A perceived success is usually just a moment in time, at least when seen through the traditional lens. You make a lot of money, you sell your company, you get the recognition that you wanted.

But then what?

In that moment, when you finally get what you wanted, you are already on to the next thing.
Because the novelty of success will fade away. It always does.

What you were really chasing was a feeling. Just like all of us.

With enough presence, you can begin to realize that you don’t need to wait for some future moment to have that feeling. You can start creating it today, now, in the way you live, in the way you work, in the way you go about your day.

So let me remind you of what you already know inside:

You are the judge.
You make the criteria.
And the feeling you are chasing is probably something you can begin practicing right now.

I’m cheering for you!

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

How often do we get triggered by someone doing something that resembles our work?

Especially now, in the age of almost unlimited content creation, ideas flying everywhere, everyone posting, everyone watching everyone.

Should we be worried?

I don’t think so.

The other day I came across a piece of content that strikingly resembled my own words, ethos, and actions. My immediate reaction was jealousy.

I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m human, and that’s a human reaction.

But luckily, my brain was trained for the next step.

After those initial few seconds, I immediately did what I like to call the zoom out method.

You take the thing that happened, hold it, pause, almost freeze-frame it, and then you add all the qualifying factors to the equation.

Are we even on the same journey?

What kind of situation is this person going through?

Is this person being authentic, or are they copying, borrowing, or using someone else as inspiration?

And my favorite one:

Does it even really matter?

I’m not saying this resolves everything. Sometimes it won’t.
But it gives you perspective, and perspective gives you space to breathe.

Because there is always more to the story.

We are quick to judge, but it’s very hard to judge properly.

Additionally, aren’t we all copying someone or something, at least to some extent? Isn’t that part of being human?

So before you panic, zoom out.

You are on your own journey.

As long as you keep embedding your uniqueness into whatever you’re doing, you’re going to be fine.

No need to panic, my friend.

Perspective is everything.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

As you might know, I consider myself to be the luckiest person in the world.
Not compared to anyone else, just within my own little world.

And still, like everyone else, I face difficulties. I recently had some private issues, and it reminded me of something I think about quite often.

How hard, or maybe how easy, is it to be both disturbed and grateful?

Inevitably, life will give you sh*t. Something unfair will happen and you look at the world and think, how is this even possible?

Sometimes you just want to shout at the world and point at the injustice happening everywhere around us.

It sounds like a paradox.
Can I be disturbed by what happened and still be grateful? Can I feel hurt, frustrated or disappointed, and still look around and say: wow, I have so much?

I think we can and I think we should.

Gratitude doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine.
Gratitude means you are present enough to hold both sides.

You can acknowledge what is difficult without letting it become the whole story. And you can feel disturbed without giving that disturbance the power to take over.

Sometimes two things are true at the same time. People or things can hurt you, and you can still be blessed. The world can feel an awful place at the times, but the sea can still be beautiful that same morning.

When you pause, even for a minute, you can start seeing more clearly. You can notice the emotion without becoming it. You can put the ego aside just long enough to say: yes, this is difficult, but this is not the whole story.

So this week, regardless of what is happening in your life, I have a small request.

Take some time with no screens.
Sit down, relax, and think about one situation that is disturbing you right now.

Look at it honestly and then ask yourself:

What is still good?
What is still here?
What can I still be grateful for, even while this thing is difficult?

You don’t have to choose between being disturbed and being grateful.
Hold both without losing yourself.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

You send the message and they don’t reply. A day passes, maybe two.

And your mind gets to work. Maybe they’re annoyed.
Maybe it came out wrong. Maybe they’re rethinking the whole thing.

Here’s what’s almost always true instead: they weren’t thinking about you at all.
They were thinking about themselves – their deadlines, their kids, their own version of the noise you’re carrying right now.

Nobody is thinking about you as much as you think they are.

I remind myself of this all the time. My busy life is just my version of everyone else’s busy life. The mental space I imagine people are reserving for me? It mostly isn’t there. They’re too busy being the main character in their own story.

So why do we build whole theaters in our heads? We have a full imaginary audience watching what we said, what we posted, what we didn’t do.

I caught myself doing it a few days ago, standing in the sea at midday, ready for my game of picigin, as I started replaying a conversation the other person had probably already forgotten.

I had to snap out of it because it’s a trap. You come back to the moment, back to presence, and the audience disappears because it was never really there.

So maybe this week the invitation is simple.

Think less about what they think. 

Come back to what’s actually in front of you.

This Week’s Cue to Pause

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

I sometimes feel obsessed with potential.

You know the feeling, right? It’s like you want to jump out of your own skin. Your mind starts creating all these insanely positive scenarios, one after another, and suddenly you get this burst of joy so strong that you almost feel like you can levitate.

Wild, I know.
I find the whole thing fascinating.

Over the course of my tech life, and especially over the last decade between Croatia and the Bay Area, I’ve been surrounded by some incredibly smart people with no shortage of ideas.

And every now and then, a few ideas start converging at the same time. One conversation connects to another. One possibility opens up another. One introduction creates a completely new path.

And then boom.
Potential bomb!

You start seeing all these possible futures. Some of them might happen. Most of them probably won’t. But just the possibility itself can send you flying.

And to be fair, I think there is something beautiful about that.

When you allow yourself to imagine bigger, the playing field gets bigger too. Your mind starts accepting possibilities that were not even on the table before. Even if only a small part of it happens, you are already moving in a wider field than before.

I love that feeling.
But I also know I need to be careful with it.

Because potential can be fuel, but it can also become a fantasy.

What’s the difference between a real opportunity and just “potential-vibing”? Is that a term!? Can we use it from now on!?

Anyway, what’s the difference between vision and delusion?

I don’t think the answer comes when you’re flying.

It comes when you sit back down.
And that’s where presence comes in.

You have to sit still, without distractions, and ask yourself: what part of this potential actually matters to me?

What part of it connects to my true desires?

It’s super easy to get high on possibility, but it’s much harder to be honest about what you actually want.

That’s why I think potential needs presence.

One Line to Carry With You

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando

I want to talk about what it really means to put yourself first.
Or maybe better said, becoming the one in your own life.

The person you can rely on. The person who takes responsibility for their health, energy, attention, and peace.

Because I keep noticing something.

A lot of people put everyone else first: family, friends, work, team, clients, whatever the case is.
And listen, empathy is beautiful and altruism is needed. Being there for people matters, I’m not arguing against that.

But too often, people put others first and completely abandon themselves in the process.

When I was a kid, my grandmother used to say:
Whoever saves themselves can save the world.

At the time, I didn’t really understand it. Honestly, I thought it sounded selfish.

Then I got older and realized what she meant:
If you don’t take care of yourself first, what exactly are you giving to others?

Your exhaustion and stress? Resentment? Your half-present self?

That doesn’t really serve anyone.

Real service starts when you are grounded enough to actually show up.
For me, this always comes back to health.

Health is the foundation. If you don’t have health, everything else becomes questionable.

You can have money, but if your body is falling apart, what is it really worth?
You can have the perfect job, but if your mind is constantly stressed, how much can you actually enjoy it? You can have people around you, but if you’re not present, are you really with them?

That’s why putting yourself first is not ego.

It’s responsibility.

It means you stop outsourcing your wellbeing and you stop waiting for someone else to save your day. You stop pretending you can pour from an empty cup forever.

You become the person in your life who takes ownership.

And once you become stronger, healthier, calmer, and more present, you naturally become better for everyone around you.

Being number one in your life doesn’t mean putting yourself above everyone. It means finally putting yourself where you belong, at the center of your own responsibility.

So my dear friend, be the one.
Not above others, but fully responsible for yourself.

One Line to Carry With You

Truly yours, this moment. 

Armando