Am I the Problem? Attention in Crisis
“It is with acts of attention that we decide who to hear, who to see, and who in our world has agency. In this way, attention forms the ground not just for love, but for ethics.”
-Jenny Odell
I want to know what you pay attention to; where your attention floats and how it returns. Would you linger on this with me a little while? Go away and come back again, as we all do when fading in and out. As I’m writing this, I realize you’ll most likely digest only a fraction of these words. I suppose I’m thinking about this because I want to engage in the things we might not be actively conscious of, but affect our experience all too well: like the reality that our focus can be quite slippery.
Is it just me or is it getting even more slippery? Is it getting even harder to pay attention to what we care about? In my last newsletter, I referred to some of my own struggles with attention. What initially felt like a “me problem” turns out to be a systematic one—a problem that is affecting culture, relationships, and our general sense of well-being more severely than we can adequately grasp. At this stage, it feels redundant to point out the correlation between our dwindling attention spans and our ever-increasing device usage. How often have you resolved to limit your screen time by deleting apps or setting daily limits, and how often have you failed miserably? But more pertinently: who can blame you?
We are in a crisis of attention—all of us. We are living in an attention economy, constantly invaded by predatory and unregulated practices outpacing the speed of information. We now know that attention is a scarce economic resource: we only have so much to give in our lifetime. Life's modern distractions overwhelm our attention spans. Hijacked attention manifests as anxiety. Disconnected attention keeps us detached from others. There are all kinds of long and short-term implications for our collective inability to focus, and none of them look good.
In his book, Stolen Focus, Johann Hari writes, “The truth is that you are living in a system that is pouring acid on your attention every day, and then you are being told to blame yourself and to fiddle with your own habits while the world’s attention burns.”
There is a certain unconscious privilege to mainstream psychological thinking that attention challenges are solely an inside job. I often think of the tricky nature of offering individual solutions to societal problems. It’s important not to lose sight that many of the issues we face require systemic and societal change. So what do we do when we are in an unfair fight?
Throughout my adult life I have immersed myself in what I call “wisdom texts”: compilations like the Tao Te Ching and writings from contemplative teachers such as Thich Nhat Hanh, Leonard A. Bullen, Faith Adiele, and poets such as Mary Oliver, Rumi, and Hafiz.
I find great comfort in seeing how for centuries—spanning every great contemplative tradition—you can find a consistent devotion to both the beauty and crisis of human attention. In 1890 William James wrote, “Attention is the taking possession by the mind, in clear and vivid form, of one out of what seem several simultaneously possible objects or trains of thought. Focalization, concentration, and consciousness are of its essence.” Back in the eighth century, John of Dalyatha lamented: “All I do is eat, sleep, drink, and be negligent.” While an ongoing question of monastic life has been whether monks needed to leave the world to avoid its distractions, it was common for monastics and contemplatives to travel to vast places like the desert to seek out greater focus.
This struggle of attention might be inflated (or preyed upon, rather) especially right now, but it is nothing new. Though the gravity of what we are facing feels bleak at times, reimagining how we can advocate for ourselves and one another can be an empowering window—a portal to clarity, reminding us we are not alone. Without devoting attention, we don’t experience care and we can’t extend care.
Perhaps in this moment in time, paying attention is our highest form of love.
I will be focusing on this subject of attention for a beat, feeling my way through different musings and vantage points for us to continue exploring. In the meantime, I invite you to join the conversation—please reach out and chime in whenever you feel the pull.
Further reading:
How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell
Stolen Focus: Why You Can’t Pay Attention—and How to Think Deeply Again by Johann Hari
Peak Mind by Amishi P. Jha, PhD
Pulse + Pause
What do you notice leads you to repetitive distraction? Taking pen to paper, jot down what comes to mind, then identify one way you might make it easier for yourself in letting go of this distraction. Reach out to one person you might bring into this conversation with you. Ask them about their own current welcome and unwelcome distractions.
Reflect on the last time someone gave you devoted attention. How did it feel? How might you be warmed by that feeling now?
A blessing:
may you join in
may you be in a phase of attending
to the gentle and deliberate
the small and intentional
the slow and essential
tuned in,
and nourished often
