Tagged: attention

Focus Out

Driving into my garage Friday after work, I caught my mind in the middle of a story.  Its favorite activity.  I reminded myself (verbally, out loud, again) that that was a world all encompassed within the eight inches between my ears.  I noticed my perspective shift to size that space compared to my garage, then my front yard, my street and on out.  Yet that interior world was so compelling and seductive, I almost slipped back into it.

geraniumsI started watering the pots of flowers on my front porch (90-degree temperatures require daily heavy watering).  I noticed the white geraniums and remembered an Avatar tool the intent of which is to intensify your attention on an object.  I put all of my attention on the flowers.  I noticed attributes of the flowers I hadn’t before:  the amount of buds, the bend of a stem, the browning flowers past bloom, the spicy smell, the curves of the leaves, the different stages of each bloom, and more.  Not only was I no longer in my head dancing with that story, but I couldn’t even remember what the story was.  Bliss…

This is such an easy practice tool to do in the summer.  There’s so much blooming and changing quickly.  I stopped the car on the way home from errands Saturday morning just to notice the grasses and flowers (weeds?) on the side of the road.  What a huge variety! What a joy it is to focus on everything around me and not my little idea of me.

 

 

Cognitive Dissonance

This morning I’m noticing the magic of what catches my attention or should I say, the magic of where my attention goes. Wait — where’s my active voice?

This morning I’m noticing what I put my attention on.

These three sentences are sticking in my mind. Each has a very different source heard during the past few days:

“I was lying – I didn’t really want to let go of those last few character defects.” (comedian in a podcast)

“You’re stubborn; you don’t want anyone telling you what to do.” (friend to me in a phone call)

“I miss the acting out.” – (character in a movie)

I wonder what I say I want to change, but I don’t really. What have I justified to myself or created internal logic to reduce my discomfort (cognitive dissonance)? The challenge is getting past the safeguards my mind has built to disguise the belief.

Looking at the second statement — what do I know about that?

  1. My idea of myself is based on thoughts I have about myself
  2. My thoughts are not necessarily real (mostly not)
  3. I can know myself only through reflection
  4. What someone else says about me is as much about the speaker as it about me
  5. It is an excellent head-fake by my mind to move the focus to him
  6. His observation is likely accurate

I’ll start with the assumption of true: I don’t want anyone telling me what to do.

And what comes up is a feeling that I am starting to explore. The best label I can think of for now is “fight or flight.”

More to come. . .