I know polyamory is in, sisters, but I'm out. Polyamorist no more.
OK, so maybe I'm embellishing a little. I'm not really a polyamorist, at least not in the "biblical sense."
But I sure am with my attention. And it's plumb wearing me out, not exactly a place from which I experience pleasure or joy.
I've realized that whatever is in front of me to do, in some sense, is my lover. And my attention is the way I make love with the weeding, the bill paying, the knitting, the person I'm talking with.
I don't take this metaphor lightly. Our attention, sisters, is what we've got. It's how we measure our lives, and how we determine the quality of our lives. What we pay attention to is what we value. And how we pay attention is how we value our own time, and our own souls.
When I pay attention to several things at a time — more often than I care to admit — it's like I'm spreading myself thin with too many lovers. More than one lover at the same time makes for overstimulation, adrenaline, drama. And exhaustion.
In my 20's and 30's, overstimulation, adrenaline, and drama were fun. At 54, I'd rather have ease, grace, even (dare I say it?) happy contentment.
So I'm asking myself these days, how would it be to practice serial monogamy with my precious attention? How would it be for not just my body, but my soul, to make love with my attention with only whatever, or whomever, is in front of me in this moment? How would it be to open my heart and soul to this task, this person, even this breath?
Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, a loved and respected Zen master, was fond of saying to his multitasking, frazzled Western students, "When you eat, eat. When you read, read."
Wow, and yikes. A better man than me ;-) This week I've followed his advice: when I break for lunch, instead of sticking my eager nose in one of the dozen or so books I'm reading, I just ... eat. I notice the textures of the hamburger and sweet juiciness of the pear. I hear the traffic, and the flicker, and the laughter of my neighbor's toddler. I feel both my fatigue and my happiness.
Instead of reading about soul, I'm inhabiting it. I think the guy's on to something.
So what am I noticing as I practice my new attentional monogamy?
I'm relishing an astonishing reduction in overwhelm and anxiety (just opposite of what you'd think, right?). I feel more spacious and at ease. I'm enjoying everything I'm doing much more, even paying the bills (instead of getting all churned up, I noticed 3 yellow finches eating tiny white hawthorn blossoms right outside my office window).
My findings are backed up by the latest research. Researchers have discovered that multitasking blocks two rather enormous areas that are directly connected to flourishing (ears pricking up, sisters?):
1. Pleasure
2. Learning
Yup.
When we're multitasking (even if it's just inside our sweet heads), we're short-circuiting the chemicals necessary to transfer whatever we're reading, listening to, experiencing, to memory.
Uh-oh. I don't know about y'all, but these days I need all the help I can get in the memory department. And every time I mess around with more than one attentional lover at one time, I reduce my already slim chances at remembering what's important to nil, zilch, nada.
Next: pleasure. Turns out that attentional polyamory releases — big surprise — brain chemicals that have to do with stimulation and frenetic excitement. These chemicals may be, well, titillating in the short term, but they leave us spent after the racy high.
Fidelity to just what is in front of us (even if it's just folding towels) is what triggers the release of the real pleasure chemicals, the dopamine and endorphins that feel sooooo good, and actually nourish our body and soul.
The Wonderful Husband is, as usual, ahead of me in this. He insists it's a Guy Thing, and I think it's a David Thing as well. When I find he's heading to the basement and suggest three or four things he could do on the way down, he just says no (over and over, cause I keep forgetting he just does one thing at a time).
When he's cooking, he just cooks. Doesn't entertain, doesn't check email, doesn't clean counters during a 30 second lull like Yours Truly. Just cooks, and loves it.
Given my decades long habit of polygamous attention, I need practices to keep helping me return to the pleasure of loving what's in front of me. My favorites are:
Breathing. If I turn my attention to my breathing, the dust always settles. After a couple of breaths, I can make easeful choices about what to make love with with my attention in that moment.
Noticing the beginning, middle, and ending of what I'm doing. If I can't figure out where I am in that process, chances are it's because I'm beginning something, middling something else, and ending a third thing, all at the same time. Asking myself if I'm beginning, middling, or ending brings my attentional love right into the present moment, and what I'm doing.
So, sisters, I'm learning, and loving what I'm experiencing.
And I'm practicing kindness towards my polyamorist self, whenever I discover myself making a grocery list in my head as I'm asking David how he's doing, or talking on the phone and answering emails, or even sitting on the toilet and planning my day.
And I remind myself, we're all on this path, given our culture's insane insistence of making love (or should I rather say, having sex with?) at least two things at a time.
Even Suzuki Roshi, he of eat or read.
One of my favorite stories about Suzuki Roshi is when a student found him sitting in a corner of the kitchen during a retreat, eating a bowl of rice ... AND reading a book. Shocked, the student said, "Roshi, but ... but ... what about, "When you eat, eat. When you read, read."
Suzuki Roshi looked up at her with his luminous grin and replied, "So. When you eat and read, eat and read."
I guess if a great Zen master double dips, even Yours Truly here is gonna to, every now and then.
But I can take a page from Roshi and greet my polyamorous tendencies with amusement and kindess.
The next time I eat and read, I'll ... eat and read.
5SEZM7Z8D363
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.