Attention Deficit

We've been so conditioned to think of attention deficit as an internal disability experienced by certain people-mostly little boys-that I was startled to hear the phrase used to describe an external scarcity of resource-a deficit of attention in that's child's environment. It made sense. How many difficulties that children experience would e eased if they were recipients of more warm steady attention? How many of the rest of us-and our communities-could benefit from some good attention?

Paying attention seems like such a simple thing. You just notice what's going on and take it in. Why is there such a deficit in this world?

Sometimes we would choose to pay attention but can't figure out how. I remember when I had two small children and felt that my attention was being pulled in so many different directions that nobody and nothing was getting what was needed. It was a breakthrough to realize that I didn't have to split my attention-which can be as hard a job as splitting atoms. Rather, I could give shorter moments fully to one child, one thing. Our family could still have used more attention, but this was much better than that sense of splintered despair. At least what was there was whole.

It doesn't have to take long to smile at a child, notice the shape of a leaf, acknowledge someone's struggle. If we could realize that even just a moment of full undivided attention makes a difference, the sum of all those moments would be significant.

Then there are the times when we'd rather not pay attention. It can be hard to take in the things that we wish weren't there. The pull to look the other way, to will ourselves to not notice, to protect ourselves from all that grief and fear, can be overwhelming. Yet the alternative is so much worse. The blinders and the numbness that are required for not-noticing actually put us in more danger. Determined not to look, not to notice, not to feel, we can no longer take in what is going on all around us, and we miss signs that might lead to greater safety. The not-noticing strategy also prevents us from taking in things around us that are healthy and right and capable of providing nourishment.

Sometimes we don't want to pay attention because we don't want to feel responsible. If we can avoid engaging-if we can manage to not notice-then maybe nothing will be required of us. Paying attention, however, is not the same as fixing or saving. Ultimately we're really the only ones we can change, and most other people don't actually want to be fixed-they just want to be seen and heard and backed. Rather than fixing, paying attention means showing up, and being present to things that are hard as well as things that are wonderful.

It's basically a matter of choosing to be tuned in to life rather than tuned out. This does require opening ourselves to grief and fear, but the rewards are enormous. Wherever we pay attention, we gain connection. I remember a preschool student teaching job where the teacher discouraged responding to one little boy's repeated requests because he was "just looking for attention." We all missed out on a relationship, and I wonder how long it was before that little boy was labeled with an attention deficit disorder. We all have power to address this deficit, in our children, in our communities, in our world: We can all pay attention.