“Notice everything. Appreciate everything, including the ordinary. That’s how to click in with joyfulness or cheerfulness.” Pema Chodron
What do magicians, politicians, military generals, and pickpockets have in common? They are masters at deflecting our attention away from what is important by creating a distraction that will hold our interest. Politicians are skilled at misdirecting our attention away from bad news, and military generals use diversions and distractions to gain advantage over an enemy. Pickpockets will either take advantage of your already distracted attention, or they manufacture a diversion so you don’t notice that your wallet is being snatched. Magicians, however, are experts in the use of misdirection, as manipulating the spectator’s attention away from the cause of a magic effect is a central element to their practice. The “magic” of a magic trick is not simply about directing our attention away from what is really happening but intentionally distracting us with something we find particularly interesting. Their art depends on not only controlling what we see, but our memory about what happened and our reasoning about how it was done.
These examples all take advantage of a common principle related to hacking our attention-- being so focused on one thing that we fail to notice the misdirection. Whereas this principle is what makes magic tricks spectacular and entertaining, it is problematic when used by actors who may have somewhat murky intentions. For the most part, having our attention focused on the wrong thing causes us to miss a great deal in life. What makes this worse is believing we are seeing the big picture when we are only seeing part of it, which ultimately disconnects us from the richness life has to offer.
Our mind uses a number of cognitive processes, most of which can be grouped into the broader category of problem-solving. These processes represent our thinking self; they operate as our brain’s default mode, a sort of high-speed processing center that categorizes, evaluates, and judges our experiences. These processes are lightning fast, and automatic which is advantageous to our safety, survival, and our need to take action. It tells us to jump out of the way of a fast-moving car, determines the trustworthiness of a stranger, and decides what we’ll eat for lunch. But because it is automatic, we frequently apply this mode too quickly or when it is not useful. Not every event in life is a problem that needs to be solved; for those situations we need to shift to another mode, our observing mind.
The observing mind is one that simply notices. Whereas the problem-solving mind asks the how, what, where, when, and why questions to gather information, the observing mind represents our non-thinking self. It uses present-moment processes such as acceptance and nonjudgmental awareness which are associated with what is commonly referred to as mindfulness. Our observing mind enables us to disengage from the automatic processes of problem-solving, creating the space needed to slow down, pause, notice, and experience the present moment. It is described as a “sunset mode of mind”, similar to our reaction to a stunning sunset that brings us to a stop, filling us with wonder, awe, and appreciation.
Whereas the observing mind can only exist in the present, our problem-solving mind shifts endlessly between the future and the past. A thinking mind is a busy place; we bustle about, making decisions and taking action, recalling memories and telling stories while judging, analyzing, and evaluating outcomes. The thinking mind is a hum of activity that comes with stimulating peaks and disappointing valleys; it captures our attention with bursts of dopamine much like the lure of a slot machine. Spending too much time in the problem-solving mind is like working in a building without windows. We can’t see the shifts in daylight, so our rhythm gets disrupted, and we lose our connection with the world around us. Over time, our attention becomes rigid and brittle, leading to states of worry and rumination. The only place life really exists is in the present moment—the past and the future are simply human constructs used to describe change. Spending time in the present moment is the only place in which we can truly touch, savor, and fully experience life.
We need not seek to turn off our problem-solving mind—to do so is impossible and would bring life to a screeching halt. It is an essential part of being human. Our thinking selves are what get us through the day; it becomes problematic when we get stuck in the past and the future, which garners so much attention that we miss a lot of what’s going on around us. Humans are good storytellers; our contrived narratives are frequently more interesting and engaging than what is happening in the present moment. This lure of a good story leaves us vulnerable to misdirection. It is what enables a magician to perform a trick, using one hand to distract us with something compelling so that the other hand can do the important work of setting up the effect. When we are fixated on our past histories and future dreams, we miss the important stuff happening all around us. Before we know it, life passes us by.
The observing mind does not need to be developed or cultivated; it is always with us. Many wisdom traditions describe it as the very essence of who we are. We do not need any special skills to access it, we need only to pause and notice. And it does not exist in the absence of thinking, it rises above it in awareness. Just as we know the sky exists even when the clouds obscure it, the observing mind is always there, simply noticing the busyness of our thoughts with nonjudgmental open awareness.
Even though the observing mind is always available to us does not mean we have the skills to access it. We live in a culture that values thinking and goal directed behavior; simply being is not a state that is encouraged, unless we are doing it while on vacation. In many ways, learning how to access our observing self is a process of uncovering our true nature. It starts by noticing when we are in our problem-solving mode—noticing that we are thinking—followed by intentionally shifting our attention to the present moment using nonjudgmental awareness. The more rigidly attached we are to our thinking selves, the harder it will be to break away from this pattern. But like any bad habit, it takes time and diligence to establish a new pattern.
Meditation has gained status as the royal road to health, but we need not start with such a formal, structured practice. Anyone who has attempted meditation knows how hard it is to stop thinking. People will tell me they are “bad” at meditating because they can’t stay focused, their mind wanders, and all they do is think. Meditation is a noble goal, but there are many ways to tap into our observing mind that are more accessible and easier to implement than a daily meditation practice.
Perhaps the easiest place to start is with your daily routine, scheduling “observing” breaks into your day. We tend to structure our routines around habits that will make our lives operate more smoothly, allowing us time to get important things done. Certainly, we make time for rest on most days, but the observing mind is not a state we access only after we get our work done. It is not rest, but an intentional shift from thinking to noticing—a skill that expands our capacity for attentional flexibility. The observing mind is the only place in which we experience the present moment; tapping into this part of the self throughout the day is like climbing a tower at varying intervals to get a better view of the road ahead. It broadens our perspective and helps us navigate the world more skillfully. Importantly, present-moment processes are not stress reduction strategies, although they frequently do work to slow down our thinking and body responses. Their intention is to broaden our attentional skills and expand our focus. We should take care to avoid attaching an expected outcome to any present-moment practices; once we load them with expectations, they hinder our ability to tap into our observing mind.
There are many ways to weave present-moment processes into our daily routine. It is important to schedule these processes throughout the day; doing so gets us in the habit of shifting our mindset from thinking to observing and then back again. The goal is not to eliminate one type of thinking, but to learn how to move between the two flexibly. One simple way to build numerous “observing” breaks into the day is to schedule them at times when you transition—before you take a shower, getting in the car to leave for work, before you enter a building (or log on, if you work from home), as you make lunch, and so on. Importantly, these breaks are not long, with most lasting about a minute. All that is required is for you to pause, either by taking 10 slow breaths, or closing your eyes to notice all the noises in your surroundings, or looking around to identify as many shapes as possible. The possibilities are endless. The key is to stop and simply notice. And it is guaranteed that you’ll start thinking. But noticing that you are thinking is part of the practice, part of what brings us into the present. Acknowledge that you are thinking—that is part of the observing mind—and then go back to the practice.
Balancing our observing mind with our problem-solving processes is not a prescription for bliss, nor will it guarantee a smooth and happy life. It will, however, help us make more skillful decisions so that we are less likely to get hoodwinked by a corrupt politician or have our wallet disappear unnoticed. As we build our capacity to pause, we start to notice more, and the less stuff we miss. We don’t have to scramble around so much in life. Sometimes a pause will show us more of what we do not want to see--we notice how the magician sets up the trick’s effect--but with the sad we always find the sweet—we notice more of those awe-inspiring sunsets. Take some time to weave “observing” breaks into your day. You may be surprised by how your world changes.
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