Pay attention, begin devotion
the difficulty, vitality, and beauty that comes with really being in our lives
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A song I’ve enjoyed listening to recently:
“Attention is the beginning of devotion.” — Mary Oliver
”Attention is the most basic form of love.” — Tara Brach
”Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” — Simone Weil
As much as I try to pay deep attention and as much as attention is a core value of mine, I get sucked out of presence somewhat easily — and don’t always recognize it’s happening until I am 20 random thoughts deep into the swirling abyss that is my brain, wondering how I got there. So many people assume I’m always calm, always able to pull my attention back to the moment at hand, always present, always practicing everything perfectly. Lol.
We can quickly assume everyone else somehow has more figured out than we do — especially people who talk about these things regularly. Yet attention is something I talk about often because it’s something I have historically struggled with, and one of my biggest lessons/teachers/spaces of practice. We tend to talk about and teach what we need most.
For a long time, paying attention felt scary because it essentially meant being with what is… which isn’t always easy and doesn’t always feel good. Paying attention meant noticing the ways my body was hurting. It meant noticing the emotions trapped below my ribcage. It meant noticing all the ways I had been dishonest with myself about what I need, what I want, or how I feel. It meant noticing the feelings I didn’t want to feel, the truths I didn’t want to confront, the actions I was too afraid to take. Paying attention gave me less of an excuse to opt out of enacting my own agency, power, and choice in my life. It meant confronting my pain instead of using it as an excuse to stay stagnant, stuck, and out of integrity. It meant growth. It meant change. And it meant pulling away from all the things I used to distract me from where my attention was needed and wanted.
Thinking of it this way, it makes so much sense why we opt out of paying deep attention in our lives — why so many of us “check out” in small and big ways — why we find it challenging to just be where we are, without wandering to some other moment, some other time, some other place.
And then there are the barriers to paying attention that exist outside of us: the biggest one being social media. I miss the days where a phone wasn’t a centerpiece — where a phone wasn’t taken into the bathroom, or whipped out every time something funny/beautiful/inspiring happens, or used as a coping tool during moments of anxiety or tenderness. I miss the days where social media wasn’t a central part of everything — where it wasn’t a tagalong to every single part of our lives. I ache for a life that doesn’t constantly have this thing to battle with when it comes to attention. It’s hard to pay attention when we busy ourselves with consuming or scrolling or sharing or numbing or capturing or _____________.
Over the last many years, I have been working to reclaim my capacity to pay attention, and with it has come a greater capacity to witness the good, too — something I long held myself back from (because feeling it all meant potentially losing it all, and sometimes not feeling the good seems safer than having to let it go eventually). Motherhood has made me especially aware of how important attention — the who, what, where, when, & why of it — truly is to me, to my well-being, to everything, to really being here.
When I think about attention in the way some of my teachers (from afar) frame it — as generous, as a form of love, as devotion — I remember what a gift it is, even when it hurts. I don’t want to miss out on my life because I was too afraid to really be in it. I don’t want beautiful moments to become a blip I quickly forget. I don’t want to wonder if I felt enough, if I gave my life enough of my own tending, if I allowed myself to be immersed in the lived experience. I don’t want to forget how capable I am of meeting the moment, whatever it may bring. I don’t want to skip over any of it. I want to feel the vitality of being here. I want to be devoted to the moments in my life.
When we pay attention, it might mean being more present to what hurts… but that might be the only way we can eventually return to healing, again and again.
When we pay attention, it might mean being more aware of challenge… but that might be the only way we can live fully and wholly.
When we pay attention, it might mean being more attuned to grief… but that might be the only way we can also honor and attune to joy.
When we pay attention, it might mean being more connected to pain… but that might be the only way we can let ourselves be fully human.
Paying attention means giving ourselves an opportunity to truly be in our life. It means having the chance to respond from the present moment, instead of from a younger version of ourselves. It means inviting in exactly what is happening. It means being willing to confront the reality of things, which also means being open to honoring what’s working and changing what isn’t. It means staying curious and unassuming. It means approaching life with care and intention. It means allowing what is by choosing to notice and name it as such. It means igniting our senses and being in tune with our bodies. It means choosing to turn toward instead of away from. It means noticing when we need something different and noticing when it’s just right. It means trusting ourselves to be with what we find. It means truly being alive, even when it hurts — even when it’s scary — even when turning away and tuning out might feel easier — even when we’re not sure what’s next or who we’ll be on the other side.
It also means being willing to let ourselves check out when we need to… take a step back when we need to… distract and compartmentalize when we need to… and then stepping back in when we’re ready.
Paying attention throws us into the deep end of what it means to be alive, and I think that’s the whole entire point of all of this “work” we do. Even though I might say otherwise when I’m in the thick of it. It’s why we are here, after all — to really be here. Even when here sucks. Even when here isn’t where we want to be. Even when here feels like it will never change (it will). Even then. Because when we can find ourselves there, we can also find ourselves swimming in beauty, too. And we all deserve that.
To reflect on:
What pulls you away from being with what is right in front of you?
What distracts you? What distances you from presence?
When do you feel most present? Most attuned? Most in your body?
What do you want to pay attention to?
How do you know when you are paying attention?
What might support you in re-connecting to being right where you are?
How might attention be an ally in creating the kind of life you want to live?
What am I willing to give up in order to pay attention to the things calling to me?
And to carry with you:
May what you pay attention to bring you closer to yourself.
May your life be worthy of being present with.
May attention give you exactly what you are needing.
May you trust yourself to hold the stuff you might rather not pay attention to.
May attention bring to the surface what is asking to be seen.
May the places you occupy sweep you up in their beauty.
May the things you discover through attention feed your spirit.
May you revel in the here and now, even when it hurts.
May you trust yourself to be with whatever attention magnifies.
May you forgive yourself when distraction inevitably pulls you away again.
“Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration's shove or society's kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It's all about paying attention. Attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” — Susan Sontag
△ Click to find lots of orgs to donate to in support of the folks in Buffalo, NY.
△ The last few episodes of This Is Us are almost too much to take… do you watch it?!
△ This powerful essay from Melissa Febos
△Your attention didn’t collapse; it was stolen.
△ This incredible speech from Abby Wambach
△ adrienne maree brown’s meme roundups on Instagram are some of my faves:
△ The devaluation of care work is by design
△ “These adoptees refuse to be 'political props' in the debate over abortion rights”
△ This interview with Liz Gilbert was really honest — really human.
△ This new collection of poetry from Ada Limón
“When I look at the world I'm pessimistic, but when I look at people I am optimistic.”
— Carl Rogers
The world is a lot; take really good care.
With care,
Lisa
The attention and care you put into this post is very appreciated. “We tend to talk about and teach what we need most.” How true.
As always, thank you so much for your beautiful writing and teachings. "...and sometimes not feeling the good seems safer than having to let it go eventually." Feels so much safer.