Attention
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Hey there!
Let’s dive right in, because in an ironic twist, this is an insanely long email about fleeting attention. If you can hang, there are some fantastic articles and a short benediction that is the “good-game” butt pat you need this week.
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Like most people in 2019, I’ve noticed my attention span diminishing. I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there. I open my email with a specific task in mind, and unconsciously open the Target weekly ad instead. Reading books is harder than it used to be.
I call it Internet Brain, though railing against the Internet is pointless. It’s changed our brains and our world forever, and it’s never going back in the box. I can make it my nemesis, or I can learn to engage with it without being swallowed whole.
There are healthy tech practices to employ, like not looking at my phone first thing in the morning or right before bed. There are settings to limit blue light, and daily time on social media apps. These are all good practices, but I rarely stick to them long-term. I get into a good habit, then eventually succumb to the siren’s call of constant reward. (New email! New notification! New article! Such promise!)
The problem is that I’ve labeled something “bad” and tried to set up rules to avoid it without replacing it with something good. It’s like every ineffective diet that makes food the enemy. People don’t tend to thrive when we feel deprived. Our willpower eventually gives out, and then we feel doubly guilty.
So go my self-imposed mandates to spend less time on social media, or my phone. It’s not enough to deprive myself. I have to replace the easy, default option with something else. What would I rather give my attention to than the next email?
It’s a surprisingly difficult question.
Attention is an investment. If I find that I’m investing so much of it online that I can’t read a book, or stay focused in a conversation with my husband, then I’ve pushed too many chips in that pile. If I find that I’m educated, entertained, and connected to people in ways I wouldn’t be without the Internet, then that feels like a good investment to me.
In the New York Times’ Smarter Living newsletter, Tim Herrera writes:
“Everything around us demands our attention, so the way to fight back is to pay attention to what you care about, and to care about what you’re paying attention to, Mr. Walker said. Is it truly worth your time to obsess over feuding YouTube stars, or whatever is trending on Twitter? Maybe it is, maybe it’s not — but you should know the answer.”
I keep trying to make rules to solve this for myself, once and for all. I want my attention investments to be automated, like my retirement savings. But as I am loathe to admit, and therefore constantly need to remind myself: I am not a robot. I’ve blamed technology, a lack of self-discipline, and motherhood for my oft-shifting attention.
But there’s actually something else going on here: I’m diversifying. In a retirement investment portfolio, diversification minimizes risk. In my daily life, I too try to minimize the risk (of missing out, of spending too much time on a project with unfruitful ends, of being bored) by spending my attention in as many places as possible.
I am often half attentive to what I’m doing while worrying about what I’m not doing. When I’m writing or working, I fret over time I’m missing with my family. When I’m with my daughter, I feel my phone’s magnetic pull drawing me to see what everyone’s up to on Instagram. I’m not really investing my attention anywhere. I’m afraid of making the wrong choice, and therefore rarely commit to any choice.
In the movie Lady Bird, a school counselor tells Lady Bird that it’s clear in her college essay how much she loves Sacramento, her hometown. “I don’t love it, I just pay attention,” Lady Bird responds. The counselor gives the wisest answer in the form of a question: “Isn’t that the same thing?”
Image source
Love is marked by paying attention. We pay attention to what we love, and we grow to love what we consistently give our attention. I resist devoting deep, prolonged focus to any of the many things vying for my attention. The shortcuts I look for in rules don’t work here because the heart’s affections are not governed by rules.
Time feels like sand running through my fingers, most days, while I scramble after it, frantic and frenzied. But sand builds a castle, and sand built the pyramids. Attentive love makes the difference.
Productivity Isn’t About Time Management. It’s About Attention Management
“If you’re trying to be more productive, don’t analyze how you spend your time. Pay attention to what consumes your attention.”
The Dangers of Distracted Parenting (h/t to Knox McCoy for sharing this in his newsletter. It’s so insightful and convicting without being finger-wag-y.)
“We seem to have stumbled into the worst model of parenting imaginable—always present physically, thereby blocking children’s autonomy, yet only fitfully present emotionally.”
It’s So Much More Than Cooking
“Cooking” is a term that doesn’t even begin to encompass the work involved in getting a meal into our mouths. If you, like me, have ever found yourself hungry and crying in your kitchen at 5pm over a missing ingredient, THIS IS FOR YOU. (Alternate title for this article: What We Cry About When We Cry About Black Beans.)
Some last links worth a click:
Toddler Feelings Hotline (A few maddening ways toddlers get our attention, and the funniest thing I’ve read lately.)
May we know the formative power of attentive love.
and
May we invest our attention fully, wisely, and deeply.
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on anything this issue calls to mind for you. Simply respond to this email to let me know.
Gratefully, Jacey
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