Of attention

Like a church bell ringing across the small village of my life, these three moments a day call me to pause and turn my heart toward what really matters.

In yet another of life's surprising twists, I am writing to you from Albany International Airport, where my first flight has been cancelled and its replacement is already delayed. I could be here awhile, but I'm not upset because I actually love airports!

Along with the bustle of people coming and going, one of the things I love about airports is the soft "ding" that announcements. One time we had a car that made that exact ding every time we turned it on, and I always felt like I was about to embark on an adventure!

It strikes me that the sound used to get all those travelers to listen is not a loud clang or a trumpet sound. Rather, it's a subtle "hey ... pay attention" signal to the brains of travelers over-stimulated by noise, movement, smells, and the ever-present devices we all carry. Even in a small airport like Albany, there are plenty of distractions vying for our most precious asset, our attention.

This ding reminds me of the days when one of our foster children was prone to screaming meltdowns at the most inconvenient times. Our caseworker instructed us to whisper when we needed to get her attention, and strangely, it worked! Even in the midst of a full tantrum, she was curious enough to stop crying for a few seconds to hear what we were saying which was usually something clever like, "The first person to sit quietly with their hands in their lap gets a popsicle!"

During these days when it feels like our entire world is in a meltdown, what gets your attention? What can stop you in your tracks and capture your attention for a moment or two?

Often we keep plummeting along, checking things off lists and running ourselves ragged until we encounter a big attention grabber ... a crisis, a diagnosis, a bit of shocking news that turns down the volume on the rest of the world for a bit.

THEN we're fully aware and ready to give attention to what really matters.

But do we notice the whispers, the soft "dings" that insert themselves subtly into the chaos and say, "What I'm about to tell you is important"?

If ignored, those quiet nudges grow louder until they demand our attention. I wonder how many people could have avoided emotional burnout, health crises, divorces, and even job losses if they'd listened to the small "dings" that hinted ...

"something isn't right here"

"you should get that checked out"

"you might want to have that hard conversation"

"listen to your exhaustion, love."

All throughout our day, we experience subtle calls to attention ... the child calling our name a thousand times, the twinge in our back, the growing distance with a friend, the overdrawn bank account, the extra glass of wine, the calendar too full for pleasure.

How can we train ourselves to pay attention before these nudges become full-blown crises?

One way to cultivate attention is through chimes or bells.

Every hour, chimes ring out across our world from the steeples of small village churches and the carillons of grand cathedrals, marking time and reminding us to pause in the rush of our days and give attention to what truly matters, even if it’s just the passing of another hour of our life.

Or perhaps I should say ESPECIALLY the passing of another hour of our life.

As a child, our family attended a Christian summer camp that believed in the power of the bell. Bells rang to wake us up, to signal the start of services, to announce meals, and to tell us when to go to sleep (heaven help any young couple found out on the grounds after that last bell!).

But there was one church camp bell tradition that I've never forgotten - The Prayer Bell that rang out across the campground at 1 PM each day, signaling five minutes of complete silence.

As soon as that bell began clanging, everyone scrambled because you only had 4-5 clangs to get into position before you were expected to stand perfectly still for five minutes. This was in the days before cell phones with alarms, so if we lost track of time, we risked being frozen in place in some uncomfortable places ... like say, a smelly bathroom stall, an open area with afternoon sun blazing down, or standing next to (heaven forbid) your mother!

On the other hand, if you played your cards well, you could wind up reclining on your bed or just "happening" to walk by a certain person when the bell would ring, thus guaranteeing five glorious minutes in the presence of your latest crush. (I'll admit to being in a group of young people casually strolling round and round on the same path in hopes of being in the right place at the right time!)

Ahhh ... but then, the five minutes.

They. Felt. Endless.

The bell clanged once each moment while we shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ignore an itch that suddenly developed, resisting the urge to swat a fly or look around at others nearby.

I don't know about the other teenagers, but I most definitely wasn't praying. Perhaps that would have helped the time go faster!

I chuckle as I write this because not much has changed. I often find myself squirmy in the middle of a prayer/meditation session, my mind racing over everything I should be doing, resisting the urge to check my phone ... still waiting for the final chime to release me back into the bustle of my day.

Just now, a chime went off on my phone, and that's perfect timing for what I want to share next.

A few months ago, I set three chimes on my phone - one in the morning, early afternoon, and mid-evening. My original intention was to pause when I heard the chime and practice a moment of intentional gratitude.

That worked well for about one day!

I soon realized that these three daily moments held a LOT of life moments - some easy to give thanks for and others that caught me quite off-guard, either in humor or frustration. After a few days, I opened a note on my phone and began to log what was happening each time the chime sounded.

Here are a few of my favorites:

* eating at Bob Evans with my dad

* crocheting on the porch with my son and daughter-in-law

* stuck in traffic on Route 77

* watching Will Trent (on Hulu)

* doing morning stretches

* making ice cream in baggies with grandkids

* waiting in the dentist's office

* shopping for the Monday Tuesday Grill

* unloading the dishwasher

* training new cleaning staff

* eating a sweet potato burrito

* buying a treat at the farmer's market

* playing mahjong

* a farewell dinner for a friend

Capturing these three small moments of each day has been a powerful exercise in paying attention to the life I'm living.

Not the life I wish I had. Not the life I see others living on social media.

My very own day-to-day life that I will miss if I keep plunging ahead without giving my attention to these people or events.

Like a church bell ringing across the small village of my life, these three moments a day call me to pause and turn my heart toward what really matters.

To NOTICE how my life is unfolding.

Becoming.

Passing.

And if I don't like what I'm doing too often when the chime sounds, the chime acts as a not-so-subtle nudge to make some changes so that I smile when I turn my attention to the next moment.

I smiled just now when the chime sounded because I'm doing one of the things I love most - writing. Summer is a difficult time for me to stay consistent with my art, but the chimes are also attuning me to the rhythm of each month as my life moves through the seasons of each year.

Some days I write.

Some days I chop vegetables or make beds.

Some days I take a two-year-old for a long, slow walk.

But each day is beautiful and good.

Life is beautiful and good if we stop and notice.

DING ...

Turn your attention to this very moment. What are you doing? Thinking? Feeling?

I hope you find a small glimmer of magic.