attention is the beginning of devotion
I find myself fascinated by attention these days, mostly because there are so many things vying for it. There’s maybe a 20% chance that you would open this email and read it. Less that you’ll read it through to the end. I share this not to pressure you in any way, but to thank you and to ask you: what had you open this email from me on this day? If you want to share, please reply. I’d love to hear from you.
I heard on a podcast a while back that if you are interrupted while you’re in the middle of something it takes 23 minutes to get back to the level of focus you were at before the interruption. 23 minutes! And that’s if you aren’t interrupted again. I imagine most-if-not-all of us are living in a state of continual disruption, unable to fully absorb ourselves in whatever it is we are doing.
One of my superpowers is tracking. When my girlfriend can’t find something (a regularly occurring experience), I often know exactly where it is without having to look up from my book. When I sit with clients, I can recall something they said to me weeks, months, sometimes years earlier, in surprising (even to me) detail.
Both of these capacities arise from my ability to pay and sustain attention. Perhaps part of why so many of us find therapy/coaching helpful and necessary in our lives is because it might be the one and only context in which someone places their undivided attention on us for a continuous hour.
After the podcast mentioned above and this alarming article, I’ve made some changes to protect and nurture my attention. Even though I have maintained some capacity to sustain attention, like many of us, I can feel it diminishing over the years. These changes include:
No social media. I’ll post on there from time to time, or look up a particular friend or account, but no scrolling.
Notifications off. My computer never alerts me to anything. With few exceptions, my phone is on silent. Not vibrate, total silence. Most often, I set it face down so I can’t see the screen light up.
Meditation. For years, I had a regular meditation practice, but in the past 3 or so, it’s fallen completely by the wayside. I’ve picked it back up, in small increments that feel easy to do.
As I maintain these practices and boundaries, I feel a slowing down. It feels like I have more time in my days. I reach out to friends more because I’m not finding passive connection through social media, and this intentional contact is much more satisfying and nourishing. I sit in silence more, without urgency to fill the space with something, anything. My attention span has lengthened, especially when I’m writing. It’s easier to get lost – in a good way – in whatever I’m doing, whether it’s reading a book, writing, making love, watching a movie, making dinner.
The great poet, Mary Oliver, wrote many things about attention, regularly acknowledging it as a holy, sacred, precious act. It is the “beginning of devotion.” “I don’t know exactly what a prayer is” she says in the poem The Summer Day, “I do know how to pay attention.”
