Have you ever thought your way out of a good feeling? You receive kind words from someone and immediately begin wondering what they want. A peaceful evening arrives and your mind races to everything that could go wrong tomorrow. The good thing was right there, but thought had already moved past it.

Camus names the problem with unusual precision. Thought is always out in front. Not sometimes, not only when we are anxious, but by nature. It is built to scan ahead, to project, to anticipate. This is useful for avoiding danger. It is far less useful for actually experiencing your life.

The body, meanwhile, lives in the present without any effort. Your lungs do not breathe tomorrow’s air. Your skin does not feel yesterday’s cold. The body is permanently anchored in what is happening now.

The trouble starts when we mistake thought’s projections for reality. We suffer the sting of a rejection that exists only as a possibility. We feel the weight of a problem we have not encountered yet. Thought, racing ahead, generates experiences the body has never had. And we suffer them as though they were real.

Awareness, for Camus, begins with noticing this gap. Not closing it. Just seeing it. The mind went ahead without you. That recognition alone is a kind of return.

See also: The Conscious Present | The Body’s Testimony | Learn more about absurdism