“But immortality is nontransferable.”
— John Updike, 1960
Don’t get your hopes up with the title; this is not an existential musing about nihilism.
I have been thinking about the nature of presence—and absence lately. This was brought starkly home to me last night when I learned that a close friend and mentor of 40 years passed away the previous night.
While his declining health and hospice care admission had rendered his death more or less a certainty, the finality of death was something that had an impact on me nonetheless. I shall never see him again, and the reality of that thought—realizing that there won’t be more of them—keeps me anchored. It isn’t simply his absence that is so forceful but the reality of the absence.
And this emptiness, this absence, although it speaks to what will not exist, is so densely important.
The Power of Absence
“How we love the friends who have just gone away from us? How we honor those of our teachers who have ceased speaking, their mouths full of earth! Then comes the word of praise spontaneously, that praise they were perhaps waiting for from us during their lifetime.”. Because with them, there is no limit. They set us free, and we have leisure. We can place the testimonial between cocktail parties, or an adventure with a mistress—whenever we wish.”
— Albert Camus, 1956
Nothing Is Something
St. Augustine had earlier argued that original sin was also related to man’s creation out of “nothing.” For him, when man turned inward—away from God—he turned toward nothingness. That is, toward meaninglessness.
Every choice we make—where we are, who we engage with, what we say—sends a message about what is important to us. Our presence says our values and intentions. But so does absence.
When we shun specific environments, individuals, or discussions, we’re giving a message. But which one, specifically? Without explanation, others must create their own sense of the absence. They could assume you are busy, you don’t care sufficiently, or perhaps even you’re consciously keeping your distance for the sake of sending a message.
The difficulty is that there can be lots of messages contained in the absence—and most times, it is not obvious what we’re hoping to communicate.
The Power of Showing Up
The remote-work transition over the last few years has reimagined what business and leaders mean by presence. Even as it has delivered increased flexibility, it has created new dialogue around being “present” at work. (I’ll leave for another time an investigation into the “return-to-office” controversy.)
Here’s the thing: How exactly do we get to impact others simply by showing up?
Whether face-to-face or on a video conference, our presence matters. It’s not merely about being present in body—it’s about presenting ourselves in ways that serve others. Being present allows us to listen, to share, and to provide context. Without presence, it’s all too easy for our teams to lose sight of the larger picture, turning their work into a series of anonymous tasks.
For a team to feel connected, they need more than checklists. They need to know why their work matters, what it contributes to, and how it fits into the larger picture of the organization.
B: Are they trusting what they’re being asked to do?
A: Do they have the capacity to do it?
Too many times, leaders ask their folks to go from K to A, skipping U and B. When there’s not enough communication and presence, gaps are formed that impact motivation and clarity. When the leaders are absent, all of those important conversations about vision, purpose, and values are forgotten—or never initiated in the first place.
Remembering What Matters
While remembering the passing away of my mentor, I revert to recalling the memories we had—old letters, photographs, cuttings. I replay the moments in my mind, remembering the times when we were completely present with one another.
And in that silence, I am reminded of the power of presence in my own life. How my mentor had been present to me, the way he’d invested in us as human beings—I want to bring that kind of presence to other human beings. He’s not here physically anymore, but what he taught me through his presence will stick with me and guide me in being present to those who matter most in my life.
Final Thoughts
Presence is not just a function of being present in body; it’s about offering yourself fully—your attention, your compassion, your insight. Absence, too, is powerful. But ultimately, it is our presence that leaves lasting imprints. And how we show up, day after day, is what shapes the relationships that truly count.