Attention

After spending a couple of weeks in London voraciously going to as many museums as I could (Hilma Af Klint is still swirling in my brain), I can confirm I’m the sort of person who prefers going to art exhibitions alone.

I relish strolling through the rooms, taking my sweet time. The only voice whispering in my ear being that of the audioguide, if any.

Nobody looks bored, gives me impatient looks, and ultimately says, “I’ll meet you at the gift shop.”

To me, few things feel more luxurious than the delicious spaciousness of freedom and time. Nothing to do but be in deep communion with the art before me.

For years, I couldn’t understand why I found it stressful to attend art events with others, until I recognised that I couldn’t divide my full attention to simultaneously hold both a relationship with a friend AND a painting by Van Gogh. I tried and failed to enjoy either.

I should probably mention that, when art is involved, I swap my usual Londoner power walk to the polar opposite: I go, like, reeeeal slow. I witness at least 3 batches of timed tickets cruise through the exhibition while I’m still there.

It takes me a while to really take in an art piece: I love how its initial reserved shyness gives way to a rich generosity the longer I spend with it. I often wander off only to be drawn back to the painting I stared at at the beginning of the exhibition (I’ve had occasions where it physically ached to walk away; I’m looking at you, The Birth of Venus). Sometimes I loop the whole thing twice.

Often, I invite coaching clients to choose an item in a museum or in the park and look at it without any distractions or interruptions for 15-30 mins and to notice what happens.

We rarely make time to truly land in deep connection with something (thing, place, or person), especially nowadays where we’re perpetually scattered in overstimulation and where our attention is a commodity everyone is fighting for.

Have you listened to a whole podcast episode only to realise at the end you couldn’t really describe what was said because you drifted off 3 minutes after pressing play?

Perhaps you spoke to your mum, but you were so distracted checking your emails and trying to decide whether that day was finally the day you’d wash your hair that you didn’t notice the sadness in her voice?

I find it unnerving when after a whole day of consuming articles, podcasts, IG stories, and YouTube videos I’m not able to recall what it is that I learned from any of them, all seeming to blur into noise.

We might “see” a rose in the garden, but do we observe the many tones of pink in its petals? Do we notice there’s a little bug nestled in its heart? Or the playful drop of water sliding off its stem?

From my experience, things/people reveal themselves to the depth and level that we’re willing to meet and be met by them.

By paying attention, we express respect and demonstrate we believe something to be important enough for us to give our time and energy to fully BE with it. Without words, we say “You’re valuable. There’s nowhere I choose to be but here. Everything else can wait, I want to be available to fully receive you.”

It’s a form of deep recognition, union, and, ultimately, love.

I sense paying attention allows us to see through the eyes of love, for love always seeks to remove the barriers that cause separation (I could expand on this, but perhaps I'll save it for another email).

From what I’ve experienced so far, the quality of our lives, relationships, and existence is in direct relationship to the quality of our attention.

I urge you to claim back this precious resource, because if you’re not deciding where to place your attention then it’s very likely someone else is choosing for you. 

You are precious. Your attention is a gateway to life and thus deserves to be treated sacredly and used wisely.