A Daily Intention to Pay Attention

These days, chaos is proving to be the norm. I am learning to cultivate peace despite the chaos, or more accuratlely, to protect moments of peace for myself.

I maintain rituals and routines for writing, running, and reading, and making time to reach each of these has become daily by default. Almost every day, I touch my writing, run a mile (at minimum), and read pages. Each helps ground me and gives me a sense of normalcy in my day-to-day life. And each of these regular practices is connected.

Running gives me time and space to think, and reading helps me expand my thinking. Sometimes I read something that becomes a meditation, and that often inspires my writing. About a month ago, my partner stepped upon a poem by Peter Levine that was inscribed in a Boston sidewalk and captured the image for me. I imagine that the poetry made him pause, and he knew that it would elicit a similar response for me. I’ve been reflecting on Peter Levine’s poem, “when the lotus bloomed”, and I encourage you to read this short, single-stanza piece here.

It begins with “I was so distracted, tense, and busy/ That I missed the lotus boom”. These first lines resonated with me because I know how easy it is to get there, to home in on one area so intently that all else is missed and treated as trivial. We’ve all been there. Even when we do feel immersed within something in our lives, other things are simmering in the background that we might also be missing. In some cases, that immersion might yield internal growth.

The poem continues to mention the feeling that something happened, just from the sense of it.

Though preoccupied and hasty

I sensed something in the room—

Sometimes we perceive change even if we are not directly observing it. Some change is difficult to track. It sneaks up on you.

The poem ends with the author revealing that the bloom of the lotus is actually will. That is what was developing in the background, a characteristic that is difficult to observe or measure, but is something that we can intuitively experience and perceive over time, perhaps only retrospectively. Without regular reflection, we might miss change within ourselves.

Trails of snow and blooms in Marcus Garvey Park in Manhattan, NY (left two images); and blooms in Ann Arbor, MI (right two images).

It is now spring, and where I’ve been spending my time in Manhattan and Ann Arbor, the flowers are in full bloom. Soon, the ground will be covered with the falling flowers. One moment in my life, snow covered the ground, and the next, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. I missed the change in seasons this year, but with my ongoing challenges of mindful thinking and mindful spending in this life period, I am keenly aware of those within myself. Perhaps my will is at the dawn of bloom.

To get to this point of paying attention to changes within myself and maintaining daily practices, flexibility has been my most important tool. Most days, I write, read, and run in the mornings, but if I am busy all day, I might edit a paragraph in the morning, read during brief breaks, and run for a mile in the early evening. If the day is draining, a short treadmill run might be my best option. Every day will differ, and approaching the day with flexibility and openness helps me to consistently write, read, and run. If you struggle with consistency, my humble suggestion is give yourself a bit of grace, and you will be able to find rhythm in the words and practices that outline your life.