There are lots of ways in which we as human beings can get caught under the vast net of stress in our lives. We oftentimes find ourselves feeling trapped by difficult circumstances and the attending feelings and thoughts that arise from them. All of this can create a sense of being overwhelmed and life at times can appear unmanageable. We then struggle and we suffer. Often times the root cause no longer exists but our coping strategies themselves have become problematic. Read more
There is truly no greater gift to give someone than your full, pure presence. We intuitively know this to be true. Perhaps you can recall a time in your own life when you’ve had the experience of someone’s complete and undivided attention. What did it feel like? The feelings may have been profound or subtle, but are almost universally life-affirming.
How were they embodying that presence? We often recognize that the body is relaxed and quiet; the emotional energy is clear and focused. Their shared thoughts back to you reflect a deep state of listening.
Yet we also know this is a rare occurrence. How often do we really give our full attention to someone? Our child is sharing their day and we are only partially listening while we cook dinner, fold laundry, return a work text. We are having a conversation with a friend or a coworker and simultaneously remembering a task undone or impatiently waiting for them to finish so it’s ‘our turn’. This is a human tendency. Fortunately, we can choose to communicate in a more skillful, even transformative way. Read more
Have you ever noticed that a lot of the time you are just not noticing? For instance, you are driving to the grocery store or to work (both of which you have done a million times), and not remembering when you arrive how you got there. Just traveling on auto pilot, or absorbed in a phone conversation, you have missed the ride. Perhaps you think, “I’ve done this trip so often I could do it in my sleep!” And guess what? In a very real way, you are! Conscious but not truly awake.
Our daily tasks of necessary repetition and ritual, whether it brewing the coffee, throwing in another load of laundry, walking the dog, become so automatic that these activities become the things we do between the times we actually are doing something that we are fully engaged in and are aware of. The unfortunate thing is, if we add up all of these moments each day, we are actually “checked out” for a solid portion of our life.
You may recall the internet sensation a few years ago, where participants were asked to watch for how many times three white shirted basketball players came onto a scene. A shocking fifty percent missed seeing a person in a gorilla suit sauntering in, pumping his chest. Even when looking right at him! This phenomenon, coined “inattentional blindness” has been demonstrated time and again.
In Smithsonian (Sept. 2012), psychologist Christopher Chabris and journalist Mark Strauss set up an experiment where participants were told to jog behind a man and record how many times he touched his hat. As they jogged, they ran by a staged fight where two men were savagely beating a third man. In broad daylight, 45% missed the altercation entirely and at night, that number rose to 65%.
We become so focused on what we think we need to see or so confident of what we know is there that nothing has the ability to enter.
While anthropologists posit that there is indeed an upside for why we have this ability to filter attention–specifically the benefit of being able to disregard distractions while trying to focus on a task, it appears we have become too proficient.
The limitations of inattentional blindness are felt everywhere. Complicating this issue is the overloading distraction dumping at all times. The myriad forms of instant communication continuously clamoring for our attention, leaving us breathless…and mind (less).
We feel the effects of our inattention in automobile accidents, addictions, rises in ADD/ADHD, and the rampant sense of isolation that occurs with the breakdown of intimacy and congeniality in all manners of relationships. The lack of simple presence of attention leads to misunderstanding and disconnection, and this includes our relationships with ourselves.
But there is a way out, and it starts today, in the here and now. The only time there is. We can begin in this moment to begin to purposely notice. We can purposely and voluntarily take mini breaks from our devices throughout the day.
We can pay attention to our breath and body as we enter our car on the way to the grocery store. We can take stock of our surroundings while driving. We may discover a beautiful old home along the road that we never knew was there, all these years on this same path. We could discover the cool breeze or warm sun on our face with our windows opened just a bit. Or we can simply marvel at how this car of ours gets us safely from one place to another .
In other words, there is nothing that is unworthy of our noticing. All parts of our days can be enriched by our very presence.
”All of us are apprenticed to the same teacher that the religious institutions originally worked with: reality. Reality-insight says…master the twenty- four hours.
Do it well, without self-pity. It is as hard to get the children herded into the car pool and down the road to the bus as it is to chant sutras in the Buddha-hall on a cold morning.
One move is not better than the other, each can be quite boring, and they both have the virtuous quality of repetition.
Repetition and ritual and their good results come in many forms. Changing the filter, wiping noses, going to meetings, picking up around the house, washing dishes, checking the dipstick–don’t let yourself think these are distracting you from your more serious pursuits.
Such a round of chores is not a set of difficulties we hope to escape from so that we may do our “practice” which will put us on a “path”- it is our path”.
A Native American grandfather was speaking to his grandson about violence and cruelty in the world and how it comes about. He said it was as if two wolves were fighting in his own heart. One wolf was vengeful and angry, and the other wolf was understanding and kind. The young man asked his grandfather which wolf would win the fight in his heart. And the grandfather answered, “The one that I choose to feed.”
I think this is the spiritual work for all of us, the challenge for me, anyway. So many of my reactions are automatic and cause me to unwittingly feed the wrong wolf. Just last week, I made a commitment to myself to not respond in the same predictable ways with my boundary pushing-prone 17-year-old son…to pause before engaging with him in any ‘discussion’ about consequences, truth-telling, accountability. Yet it was only minutes later that there I was, at it again. Quick with a comeback, not fully engaged in listening in a way that invites conversation, having already made up my mind, keeping us stuck in a loop of frustrating dialogue.
It just reminds me of the vigilance required to notice which wolf I am feeding in the first place. As Budddhist nun Pema Chodron points out in her book, Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears: “The first step in this learning process is to be honest with ourselves. Most of us have gotten so good at empowering our negativity and insisting on our rightness that the angry wolf gets shinier and shinier, and the other wolf is just there with its pleading eyes. When we’re feeling resentment or any strong emotion, we can recognize that we are getting worked up, and realize that right now we can consciously make the choice to be aggressive or to cool off”.
Pause, pause, pause. Just the slightest turn towards remembering myself, a hiccup really, brings my reflexive thoughts, feelings, and actions briefly into clear focus; it reminds me I am the one doing the thinking, feeling, and acting . From there, I’m in a better place to choose. A sense of humor is vital, the journey really impossible without it; with myself and others. Taking yourself too seriously on the spiritual ascent is deadly, killing both the spiritual and the ascent! Realizing that the pull to be busy in a thousand different ways is really just a distraction that gets me caught up again. Recognizing how I get twisted up in my own story, some crazy yarn being fabricated out there in the recesses of my mind.
Potent fantasy most often, that’s what’s usually going on in my private movie while these two howling hounds are duking it out for primacy. Ruminating about what she’s going to do, about what he’s thinking, about what’s going to happen to me next week, next month, next year. Taking things personally as if that were ever really true, especially seeing as everybody is busily building their own twisted tale of good and evil, villian and victim. I can choose to say “No thank you” when someone pours me their ‘poison’ and asks me to drink.
Instead the low growls and the sharp bites of a fearful wolf; I can pick the wolf of warmth. I can welcome a stranger or one estranged from me back into the pack. I can howl at the moon in search of company. And I can lick my wounds, trusting that healing will follow.