Like me, you’ve no doubt been in conversations with someone and wondered whether they’re fully present or not. They look distracted. Sometimes, by what’s obvious – the content on the screen of a mobile or tablet, say, noise in your close vicinity, or they’re suffering some physical discomfort. More often, though, the distraction is less obvious. It’s somehow behind their eyes and their facial expressions, or detected by the relevance of their contribution, given the ground covered in the conversation so far, and the extent to which they’ve listened to and understood that.
Zooming in on distraction
What could be going on in those less obvious moments? Let’s tune into that by recognising we too get distracted and can draw on our own experience of being so.
Imagine you’re you observing you for a moment. I know that might sound a bit odd, but I’m encouraging you to play with the idea that you can be an onlooker of what’s happening in your mind in real-time, from a metaphorical distance as it were. As if you were on the branch of a tree looking down on you, for instance, or up on the ceiling. A bit like what some call “an out-of-body experience”, your vantage point is one where you can observe you experiencing what’s happening in you. As for what to observe, either read the poem below or listen to me reciting it. As the observant onlooker, just notice one thing only while you read or listen – what goes on in your mind.
Ready? Start noticing…now.
The poem is called If, by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
What showed up?
Perhaps Kipling himself provoked some thoughts in you – as a great writer of his time maybe – he wrote Jungle Book too in case you didn’t know. Or that his personal beliefs around imperialism, race, and colonialism, together with his connection to the British Raj in India, meant the historical context in which he wrote the poem can be problematic.
Maybe you observed yourself experiencing a single idea or a combination of thoughts that were completely new to you.
Were you talking to someone about the poem, rather than just reading or listening to it, my guess is you would have observed the temptation to ask questions too. You’d probably mentally prepare what to say in advance also so that you’re ready for when it’s your turn to speak.
And the point about being fully present is…
When unaware of what the contents of consciousness are – that is to say we’re immersed in our intuitions, sensations, thoughts, and feelings rather than observing from a metaphorical distance – we can’t be fully present. Instead, the contents lead us to what has happened in the past or could do in the future. When dwelling in either of those two, we’re not right here, right now.
The contents of our consciousness, therefore, can distract us from the present moment and all the possibilities it holds. That’s what our eyes and facial expressions signal, or we might say “leak” to others. What’s going on inside gives the impression we’re somewhere else other than here.
Fear not though, we’re all unaware of the contents of our consciousness at times. Relying on our intuitive response to a situation, believing what we see and hear, getting immersed in a thought, and perhaps being hijacked by a feeling is what we humans do. That’s why, in conversations, it’s hard to be fully present to what someone is saying and how they’re saying it sometimes.
Similarly, when alone in conversation with that voice in our head, it’s easy to overthink and ruminate on the contents of our consciousness. Why, for instance, do I feel this, or think that, and shake every time such and such happens, are questions that can be all-consuming. I say that as someone who has suffered from depression, which isn’t pleasant. Our self-talk can cripple us at times, to the point where we don’t want to face the world and prefer to stay under the duvet instead. But, believe me when I say there is a way through this. We needn’t dwell in the contents of consciousness for too long, especially when we’re the observer of them and know for sure that they will pass through.
Being that onlooking observer of the contents, from whatever vantage point feels comfortable for you, is the one thing that helps bring your attention back to the present moment whenever it drifts off.
Except that, well, there’s a second thing too…
In subsequent posts, I’ll be exploring the contents of consciousness in some depth. Asking questions about what we can and can’t influence, the mystery surrounding how they arise, how observing them changes our experience of life, and much more. For now though, let’s end by shining a light on why being right here, right now matters in relationships.
Why being right here, right now matters in relationships
Listening to a family member, friend, colleague, client, or whomever, with little on your mind, and your attention being brought back to them in the present moment whenever it drifts – and it will – is like meeting them for the first time. The more this happens, the easier it becomes for them to see you’re not distracted. They realise they have your full attention. Rare in this age of busy, distracted minds. Typically, they warm to you because of this. They feel they (and the contents of their consciousness) matter to you.
Try it the next time you’re in conversation with someone who has a point of view they want to get across. Observe you conversing with them. Notice your intuitions, sensations, thoughts, and feelings and set them aside for later. Bring your attention back to the person you’re with. Be present, right here, right now. You’ll be amazed at how much you recall afterwards. You might be even more amazed at how the other person starts relating to you too.
Experiment and see what happens. Look forward to being with you again. As does Ted!
