You have to be able to think about the future to understand why it is so important to live consciously in the present.

I was just sitting on the bus in Lisbon, and I had this thought.

Recently, my mom told me another story about me when I was a child. I thought about how I want to tell this to a certain person the next time I see them.

And then today I thought: If I ever become a mother, I have to remember all these things about my child really well.

Because I want to be able to tell all these stories. I want my child to learn about their childhood from me, just like I learn things from my parents today.

And then I realized something: To understand why it is important to remember this now, we have to be able to think into the future.

Not look into the future. Think into the future.

I have to be able to imagine a future version of myself. A version that sits somewhere with her child one day and tells them all these stories. Only then can I understand today why I want to remember moments in life so clearly.

And I think that is actually how I live a big part of my life. That is why I take so many photos. That is why I make so many videos. That is why I like to listen so closely and deeply. That is why I reflect so much. That is why I write things down.

That is why I tell stories and share so much of my life.

Even my Instagram story archive is now basically just a huge collection of moments that I can never go back to.

And honestly: not because I want to go back, but to be grateful that I got to experience it, or that I made it through something, and that I can remember those moments.

Because there is a difference between wanting to go back somewhere, and being grateful that you can remember you were once there.

My mind just works this way.

That is how my memory works.

With every photo I take and every video I record, I connect many things. Stories, emotions, people, a place, a feeling.

I can watch any random video from a few years ago, and it takes me right back. Not just to the place. Also in my mind. And in how I felt with the people around me.

I remember who was around me back then. I remember what was going on in my life. What was important, and what was maybe too important or not important enough yet. I know what frustrated me and what made me happy. What hurt. What was wrong and what was right. I know what nobody understood, and I remember knowing that it was okay not to care—because someday people would understand, or maybe they wouldn't, and then it wouldn't matter to me anyway. And I remember what I thought back then, and what I imagined would happen next.

And I find that so valuable.

Because sometimes I look back and think to myself: Wow. I have been there before. I have felt like this before. I have gone through that before. None of that worked out, but this did. I have survived things where, back then, I had no idea how I would ever get through them. I have loved so deeply. I have been so incredibly grateful. I have already been a completely different version of myself.

And I have grown into 100 new versions of myself, but often I lose track of the whole journey. Until some picture reminds me of it again.

And at my core, I haven't just stayed the same. The closer I have come to God, the more I have become my "real self."

And then there are the patterns. You look back on your own life over the years and you see things you could never have seen while you were right in the middle of them. Patterns in yourself. Patterns in relationships. Patterns in your thinking, and in how and why your identity was shaped. Patterns in your decisions. Patterns in how you grew and why.

And I find this so powerful, because it turns the whole thing into a cycle.

I think about the future, and because I can think about the future, I understand why I want to experience the present so consciously and keep it as a clear memory.

Because one day, this present will become my past.

I look back at my past, and that helps me understand the present a little better today.

And because I understand myself better, I can live my future even more consciously.

And then it all starts over again.

That is why I don't believe that thinking about the future automatically pulls us out of the present moment. In fact, I believe the exact opposite.

I believe that our ability to think about the future can help us truly live in the present in the first place.

And I also don't believe that taking photos or videos automatically means you are "not living in the moment."

At least it doesn't mean that for me.

Sometimes I take a photo precisely because I am so aware that I am in this moment.

Because I already know now: This will not be my life forever. This place will not be my home forever. These people will not be around me forever. Yet this will matter one day, maybe even more than it does right now.

And I will not be this version of myself forever. And I simply don't know what else will come in life. And that is completely okay. I don't have to keep it. But I want to know that it was.

And then there is another side to this thought that I think is really important to take seriously. Because once you start looking at your life this way, you can no longer live it unconsciously.

Because you realize: This right here is already the story. It is already happening. This completely random Wednesday is part of my unique, important life line. This conversation is part of my life. This person I just met is part of my life. This decision is part of my life.

This strange little chapter, where I currently think "I just have to get through this somehow," is literally part of the movie & the opening to a new chapter that it unlocks — simply because this is what is happening right now.

And I have no idea what it will mean one day & what next storyline will come from it. That is the wild thing. But I know for sure that it will have a meaning. Because everything does, every single second.

Today, I can watch an old video and know exactly what happened next. But the woman in that video? She had absolutely no idea.

And right now? I am her again. And you are her too — or him.

You don't know what comes next.

You don't know who will still play a role in your life in ten years, or who you will be in 10 years. We don't even know if we will still be on this earth in 10 years.

You don't know yet which completely random meeting will change everything.

You don't know which ending will turn out to be a beginning, and which beginning will lead to what end.

You don't know which completely normal day will one day be a memory you think back to for the rest of your life.

And somehow, that is exactly why I want to treat myself and my life with care. Not scared at all. And not in a way where I try to control everything.

Instead, with awareness and care.

Because every person matters. Every meeting matters. Every chapter matters.

Not because everything has to turn into something huge. Just simply because it happened. Because it became part of this one life.

And for me, that is the whole point.

I think we don't have to try all the time to make every moment especially valuable. I think we can simply understand that it already is.

So take the photo. Take the video. Write down the story. Ask your family something.

Really listen when someone tells you something about their life. Remember how the room felt.

Notice who you are right now.

Because one day, you might look back at this exact version of yourself and understand things that she cannot understand today. And this future version of you will only be able to draw on what you noticed clearly enough today, and maybe held on to.

Maybe our ability to think into the future is the exact thing that lets us understand how much we can let the present matter.