Pay attention!
"For many of us, the phrase "pay attention" conjures up memories of parents, teachers, and maybe even bosses who would scold us for not being focused on what they felt we "should" be focused on." ~Curtis G. Schmitt
Being present is a gift, and cannot be extorted or exhorted, scolded or shamed into being. It only requires now, no past, no future, no money, no action.
"Try this exercise, right now. You might be in a passive reading mode and telling yourself you'll do it later, but please take this opportunity to do it now.
1. Sit quietly with your eyes closed and notice what you are experiencing. Don't judge it. Just for a moment, let go of the feeling of wanting a different experience, and pay attention to the Now.
2. Focus your attention inward and notice what you're feeling. What mood are you in? Resist the urge to judge your mood or change it. Is there a particular emotion you're feeling that you might not have been aware of a moment ago? Is there another emotion below that one, maybe subtler but still affecting how you feel?
3. Now focus your attention outward. What sounds and smells do you notice that you weren't aware of a moment ago? What sensations can you feel in your body that your mind has been filtering out until now? Focus on your big toe on your left foot or how it feels to sit in your chair. Now focus on the temperature of the air that you're breathing, the feeling in your chest as it expands and contracts, and the sound your breath makes.
Don't you feel more alive when you are present? Are you surprised by all of the things you noticed--inside and out--that you hadn't noticed before? These sensations were there all the time, only you weren't paying attention to them.
What you just did was a meditation. What I love most about this kind of meditation is that it can make the mundane feel magical. Try it the next time you brush your teeth."
~Curtis G. Schmitt
Welcome to now!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Attention: focused presence
While I think of mindfulness as openness and awareness to ourselves, to others, to the world around us, to the Divine, attention is a focusing practice, more directed than broad. Being present and focusing in the moment is powerful, both as giver and as receiver. We all love good attention.
Using the reflective practice of spiritual reading, let's start our exploration of attention with this reading by James Hillman, taken from Spiritual Literacy, ed. by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat.
"Not only persons call for service; their things do, too--the oil changed, the VCR cleaned, the dryer repaired, the message transmitted. Ceremonies of the repairman. Objects have their own personalities that ask for attention, just as the ads show the smiling bathtub that enjoys the new cleanser or the wood siding that likes the fresh stain which prevents it from decay. Treating things as if they had souls, carefully, with good manners--that's quality service ...
This idea of service demands surrender, a continuous attention to the Other. It feels like humiliation and servitude only when we identify with a ruling willful ego as mirror of a single dominating god. But what is a God is in each thing, the other world distributed within this world?
Theology calls this distribution of the divine within all things the theory of immanence, and sometimes, pantheism....
A theology of immanence means treating each thing, animate and inanimate (perhaps the distinction no longer clearly obtains), natural and man-made, as if it were alive, requiring what each living thing requires above all else: careful attention to its properties, their specific qualities. This plant needs little water; this wood won't bear great weight and burns with a smoky fire. Look at me carefully: I am an aspen, not an oak. Notice differences, pay attention, give respect (re-spect = look again). Notice what is right under your nose, at your fingertips, and attend to it as it asks, according to its needs."
If you need a reminder about the steps of spiritual reading, take a moment.
As you read and re-read this passage, what do you notice? What words or phrases draw you in? What catches your eye or ear? What speaks to your own sense of service, of attention, of care?
Then as you come out of the quiet of your meditation, and go about your day, attention is the practice of focusing on what it is you are doing. If you're getting up to make a meal, just make a meal. If you are having a conversation with your child or partner or friend, just be present for that conversation, not five other things. Thomas Keating reminds us, "This is where attentiveness to the content of the present moment is a way of putting order into the myriad occupations, thoughts, and events of daily life. Attention to this context simply means to do what we are doing. This was one of the principal recommendations of the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the fourth century. The disciple would come for instruction and say, “I am interested in finding the true self and becoming a contemplative. What should I do?” The desert guides would reply in the most prosaic language, “Do what you’re doing,” which means, bring your attention to the present moment and its immediate context and keep it there. For instance, it is time for supper. Well, put the food on the table. This is true virtue. Turning on the television at that time or making a needless phone call might not be. Attending to the present moment means that our mind is on what we are doing as we go through the day. We are thus united to God in the present moment instead of wondering about what we are going to do next or tomorrow."
Full attention to another person is perhaps one of the best gifts you can give someone. Being fully present with one another in love is the best practice for relationship health that I have found. As Keating says, "we are thus united to God in the present moment," manifesting the divine in that moment of presence.
Using the reflective practice of spiritual reading, let's start our exploration of attention with this reading by James Hillman, taken from Spiritual Literacy, ed. by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat.
"Not only persons call for service; their things do, too--the oil changed, the VCR cleaned, the dryer repaired, the message transmitted. Ceremonies of the repairman. Objects have their own personalities that ask for attention, just as the ads show the smiling bathtub that enjoys the new cleanser or the wood siding that likes the fresh stain which prevents it from decay. Treating things as if they had souls, carefully, with good manners--that's quality service ...
This idea of service demands surrender, a continuous attention to the Other. It feels like humiliation and servitude only when we identify with a ruling willful ego as mirror of a single dominating god. But what is a God is in each thing, the other world distributed within this world?
Theology calls this distribution of the divine within all things the theory of immanence, and sometimes, pantheism....
A theology of immanence means treating each thing, animate and inanimate (perhaps the distinction no longer clearly obtains), natural and man-made, as if it were alive, requiring what each living thing requires above all else: careful attention to its properties, their specific qualities. This plant needs little water; this wood won't bear great weight and burns with a smoky fire. Look at me carefully: I am an aspen, not an oak. Notice differences, pay attention, give respect (re-spect = look again). Notice what is right under your nose, at your fingertips, and attend to it as it asks, according to its needs."
If you need a reminder about the steps of spiritual reading, take a moment.
As you read and re-read this passage, what do you notice? What words or phrases draw you in? What catches your eye or ear? What speaks to your own sense of service, of attention, of care?
Then as you come out of the quiet of your meditation, and go about your day, attention is the practice of focusing on what it is you are doing. If you're getting up to make a meal, just make a meal. If you are having a conversation with your child or partner or friend, just be present for that conversation, not five other things. Thomas Keating reminds us, "This is where attentiveness to the content of the present moment is a way of putting order into the myriad occupations, thoughts, and events of daily life. Attention to this context simply means to do what we are doing. This was one of the principal recommendations of the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the fourth century. The disciple would come for instruction and say, “I am interested in finding the true self and becoming a contemplative. What should I do?” The desert guides would reply in the most prosaic language, “Do what you’re doing,” which means, bring your attention to the present moment and its immediate context and keep it there. For instance, it is time for supper. Well, put the food on the table. This is true virtue. Turning on the television at that time or making a needless phone call might not be. Attending to the present moment means that our mind is on what we are doing as we go through the day. We are thus united to God in the present moment instead of wondering about what we are going to do next or tomorrow."
Full attention to another person is perhaps one of the best gifts you can give someone. Being fully present with one another in love is the best practice for relationship health that I have found. As Keating says, "we are thus united to God in the present moment," manifesting the divine in that moment of presence.
Reflection: spiritual reading in a group
If you are fortunate enough to have or motivated to start a group, you can also do spiritual reading and reflection in a group. You can use any common texts: the Psalms, devotional materials, poetry, books.
from Weavings Magazine Guide to Spiritual Reading:
SPIRITUAL READING (lectio divina) is the ancient practice of savoring a text with patient playfulness. This way of reading is alert with expectation that a transforming word of life will make its way from the written narrative of the author to the lived narrative of the reader. Spiritual reading holds out the promise of fresh meaning, insight, or truth emerging between writer and reader that transcends time and space. Yet this experience assists the reader to enter more reflectively and faithfully into his or her own time and space. In this respect, spiritual reading embodies the pattern of the Incarnation, where Word becomes flesh for the life of the world. Peter of Celle, the great twelfth century Benedictine abbot, describes spiritual reading this way: “Reading is the soul’s food, light, lamp, refuge, consolation, and the spice of every spiritual savor. It feeds the hungry, it illuminates the person sitting in darkness; to refugees from shipwreck or war it comes with bread. It comforts the contrite heart; it contains the passions of the body with the hope of reward. When temptations attack, it counters them with the teaching and example of the saints.... In the bread box of sacred reading are breads baked in an oven, breads roasted on a grill, or cooked in a frying pan, breads made with the first fruits and sprinkled with oil, and barley cakes. So, when this table is approached by people from any walk of life, age, sex, status or ability, they will all be filled with the refreshment that suits them." Remember the invitation heard by Augustine in the garden on the threshold of his conversion: “Take and read."
from Weavings Magazine Guide to Spiritual Reading:
SPIRITUAL READING (lectio divina) is the ancient practice of savoring a text with patient playfulness. This way of reading is alert with expectation that a transforming word of life will make its way from the written narrative of the author to the lived narrative of the reader. Spiritual reading holds out the promise of fresh meaning, insight, or truth emerging between writer and reader that transcends time and space. Yet this experience assists the reader to enter more reflectively and faithfully into his or her own time and space. In this respect, spiritual reading embodies the pattern of the Incarnation, where Word becomes flesh for the life of the world. Peter of Celle, the great twelfth century Benedictine abbot, describes spiritual reading this way: “Reading is the soul’s food, light, lamp, refuge, consolation, and the spice of every spiritual savor. It feeds the hungry, it illuminates the person sitting in darkness; to refugees from shipwreck or war it comes with bread. It comforts the contrite heart; it contains the passions of the body with the hope of reward. When temptations attack, it counters them with the teaching and example of the saints.... In the bread box of sacred reading are breads baked in an oven, breads roasted on a grill, or cooked in a frying pan, breads made with the first fruits and sprinkled with oil, and barley cakes. So, when this table is approached by people from any walk of life, age, sex, status or ability, they will all be filled with the refreshment that suits them." Remember the invitation heard by Augustine in the garden on the threshold of his conversion: “Take and read."
Reflection: spiritual reading/lectio divina
The idea of reading holy texts, or of reading the contemplative writings of others, and reflecting upon them is among the oldest contemplative traditions. I am recommending a further, powerful step in writing down your reflections--in a journal, in a blog.
Unlike many of the exercises in this blog this is not a five minute practice, but it is possible to do five or ten minutes of reading and come back to that several times during a day. I often find that something that I read in the morning pops into my head during my commute and I can ruminate about it, but putting the reflection in written form takes some time, and I often come back to it again several times for editing and additions.
Reading poetry is a wonderful spiritual practice in itself, but spiritual reading of poetry can take you even deeper. I invite you to take a look at a process of spiritual reading of poetry :
I abbreviate it here.
1. Breathe deeply for a couple of minutes.
2. Read slowly, aloud if possible--linger over words & phrases. (If doing this as a group, take turns reading aloud, with different readers giving different voice and emphasis.)
3. Look and listen for nuance and detail.
4. Continue to read for the amount of time you've allotted.
5. Give thanks and sit in silence, waiting to hear what else might speak to you from this reading.
6. Record your reflections in your journal.
7. Pick one gleaning to carry with you for the day.
Reflect upon this poem by Sufi poet Rumi, translated by Daniel Ladinsky from the anthology, Love Poems from God.
Read the poem aloud, as well as silently. How does this poem speak to you? What phrases stay with you the first time? What new things do you notice the second time? Write your thoughts.
Vary the emphasis and inflection, particularly on the the word "Hey." Is it a tone of wonder, intrusion, friendliness, irritation, or something else? How does that change the meaning of the poem?
Check out the list of poetry links to the right for both daily written and audio poems.
Unlike many of the exercises in this blog this is not a five minute practice, but it is possible to do five or ten minutes of reading and come back to that several times during a day. I often find that something that I read in the morning pops into my head during my commute and I can ruminate about it, but putting the reflection in written form takes some time, and I often come back to it again several times for editing and additions.
Reading poetry is a wonderful spiritual practice in itself, but spiritual reading of poetry can take you even deeper. I invite you to take a look at a process of spiritual reading of poetry :
I abbreviate it here.
1. Breathe deeply for a couple of minutes.
2. Read slowly, aloud if possible--linger over words & phrases. (If doing this as a group, take turns reading aloud, with different readers giving different voice and emphasis.)
3. Look and listen for nuance and detail.
4. Continue to read for the amount of time you've allotted.
5. Give thanks and sit in silence, waiting to hear what else might speak to you from this reading.
6. Record your reflections in your journal.
7. Pick one gleaning to carry with you for the day.
Reflect upon this poem by Sufi poet Rumi, translated by Daniel Ladinsky from the anthology, Love Poems from God.
HEY
The grass beneath a tree is content
and silent.
A squirrel holds an acorn in its praying hands,
offering thanks, it looks like.
The nut tastes sweet; I bet the prayer spiced
it up somehow.
The broken shells fall on the grass,
and the grass looks up
and says,
"Hey."
And the squirrel looks down
and says,
"Hey."
I have been saying "Hey" lately too,
to God.
Formalities just weren't
working.
The grass beneath a tree is content
and silent.
A squirrel holds an acorn in its praying hands,
offering thanks, it looks like.
The nut tastes sweet; I bet the prayer spiced
it up somehow.
The broken shells fall on the grass,
and the grass looks up
and says,
"Hey."
And the squirrel looks down
and says,
"Hey."
I have been saying "Hey" lately too,
to God.
Formalities just weren't
working.
Read the poem aloud, as well as silently. How does this poem speak to you? What phrases stay with you the first time? What new things do you notice the second time? Write your thoughts.
Vary the emphasis and inflection, particularly on the the word "Hey." Is it a tone of wonder, intrusion, friendliness, irritation, or something else? How does that change the meaning of the poem?
Check out the list of poetry links to the right for both daily written and audio poems.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)