Attention! Attention!

In Aldous Huxley’s last novel, Island, he writes of an idyllic society that combines the best of Buddhism and modern science. In many ways the book stands in opposition to his far more famous novel, Brave New World, in which Huxley describes an attempt by humans to create a utopian world, only to see that world turn soul-crushingly bad. Whereas, in the Island Huxley's utopian world seems to thrive for the benefit of all, at least for a time. Among the many experiments the Island’s initial leaders attempted was the training of Mynah birds to utter the phrases “Attention! Attention!” and “Here and Now, Boys! Here and Now!” to serve as constant reminders to the island’s inhabitants to pay attention to the present moment.

In raising the boys, I’ve often felt like that mynah bird. “Pay attention to what you’re doing” is a constant, but useless, refrain in our house. For the boys the inability to focus is certainly severe enough to be clinical and there is no doubt that if a previous diagnosis of autism wasn’t already on the books they’d surely be diagnosed with ADHD (Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder). Their ability to be distracted from the task at hand is mind-boggling. The pull towards any written word is overwhelming. It is rare that either one of them can get dressed without taking a pause at some various stage of undress to grab something to read. I’ve seen them climb a ladder and go down a slide while reading, brush their teeth while reading, and if it was up to them, they would always eat and read. You name it, they’ve done it reading. Despite our constant pleas to “do one thing at a time” they don’t. They seem completely unable to focus on a single task.

Of the many benefits I hoped to reap by teaching the boys mindfulness meditation, this was near the top of the list. I am hopeful that this effort might bear fruit based on what I’ve seen in my own personal life. To a lesser degree, I was like the boys when it came to giving my full attention to a task. For a long time, although I recognized that it did cause some problems, I largely viewed this trait as positive. I could easily send an important work email while talking on the phone about something else entirely. I could talk to my family on the phone while taking out the trash or folding laundry. I could participate in meetings at work while making a list of things I needed to do before the next meeting (during which I was likely in charge of recapping the last meeting in which I wasn’t fully attentive). Today’s western culture highly regards and often requires multi-tasking.

Despite viewing this as an attribute it did cause problems (to which my wife would surely attest). I often found myself missing important details from conversations and in extreme instances found myself realizing I had just committed myself to something without being exactly sure of what it was I was expected to do. This of course led to the embarrassing task of having to ask for clarification, or more likely spending a significant amount of mental time and energy to devise a way to uncover what had been said without making it clear to my colleague that I hadn’t been paying a lick of attention to what they had been saying for the last twenty minutes or so. It had even gotten to the point where I couldn’t even manage in meetings to pay attention to answers to questions that I myself had asked.

A large part of the appeal Buddhism held for me was the practical ways in which it was applied. Although I was looking for some sort of larger change in my life, I couldn’t help being a practical person by nature and when I first began to meditate the small practical improvements were what struck me the most. Notably the ability to pay attention to and therefore enjoy a mundane task like doing the dishing. Still, at first mediation was very difficult for me. I couldn’t get comfortable. My knee hurt, my back hurt, even my lungs hurt from all the breathing (I wasn’t sure how I normally breathed so much in a given day). And that was nothing compared to what my brain was doing. Some days, I would throw in the towel, completely exhausted, after just five minutes. But, it did get better, albeit slowly, and it was clear to me that meditating was literally exercise. Brain exercise to be exact and I had to keep at it in order to build up my ability to use my mind to be aware of my breathing. In this way I recognized that “paying attention” was a real skill that had to be nurtured, one that I had been willfully neglecting over the years in favor of multi-tasking.

Eventually I saw that skill paying off with benefits in my everyday life. I was able to actually drive to work as opposed to getting to work solely on autopilot while my thoughts raced about in different and often terrible directions. At first I found myself making a very conscious effort to give my attention to employees coming to me with problems far from the top of my list, but as I worked at it (and as I built up the “paying attention muscles” in my brain through meditation) I found that I was able to do it more naturally and more frequently, benefiting not only myself but also those who were asking for my attention.

It is my hope that through mindfulness meditation this skill can be cultivated in the boys. Right now it seems an awfully big hill to climb. But, with perhaps greater effort, we’ve been able to conquer other hills. It took real work and effort with an occupational therapist for the boys to be able to dress themselves (and jump!). It took real work and effort with a speech therapist for the boys to be able to ask a question and make a request for even the simplest of necessities. With the boys nothing has been gained without effort, regardless of whether it appears to be incredibly simple or monstrously difficult. Paying attention should be viewed no differently.

However, given the impact of Asperger’s I do believe they have an extra hill to climb that most beginning meditators do not face. While my mind may move fast and have difficulty settling, theirs moves faster—a lot faster. Faster by a factor of ten. And it is clear that it craves input. Without input, without constant stimulation they go quickly off the rails. Because of this they often crave all sorts of sensory input, crashing into things just to feel the pressure for instance. And, of course, they read. In any new situation the first thing they will look for is a book, to provide that input and I suppose a sense of safety.

Despite those hurdles I believe that through the hard work of meditation they will be able to cultivate that skill and be able to at will to focus their mental abilities on “just one thing.” And I believe that learning to focus will bring with it the potential for them to far surpass my ability to be in touch with the world around me.