Grizzly, Leave It! ...The Thief of Distraction
As part of my practice of slowing down, I’ve been handwriting my posts before they go into the computer and land in your inbox. I have written the last three blog posts on an old- fashioned legal pad with a pen in my hand. I’ve got to admit, it’s not nearly as efficient or convenient as tapping away on my laptop from the start. I’ve blogged for a number of years and I’ve gotten fairly efficient typing out 700-900 words for the average post. While I do revise and edit some, the whole process is much speedier without copying from handwritten notes.
Why then, am I intentionally handwriting my first draft? In short, my focus. The yellow pad and a pen cannot offer up my 3 email accounts, Amazon, a quick Google search or I-message. Curiosity killed the cat; or in my case, the cat’s writing time, study time, and attention span. I can get lost researching almost anything for the sheer pleasure of it. Which foods lower cholesterol and which ones increase platelet counts? Can you buy those velcro things that hold your car mats in place? (Turns out you can!) How do you get an accent over a ‘e’ on your MacBook?
I’m realizing as I attempt to write whole blog posts in longhand how easily distracted I have become. The slow work of spreading ink on a page with a pen, of shaping lines and curls into words and meaning is forcing my attention in a bodily way. There’s no notification noise, no available tab to open and no link to click. My thoughts seem to stay put.
I’m convinced that in addition to hurry and fullness, distraction is a third great enemy of the spiritual life.
In addition to slow writing and not surprisingly, God is using Grizzly to help me see how to steward my attention. Grizzly knows two commands that illustrate this: Stay and Leave it! When I say, “Grizzly, Stay”, he is to hold the position and place he currently has. I often practice this command with him at his food bowl, his place of greatest temptation. I seat him, fill the bowl with kibbles, and require him to stay seated until he is released to move with the word, “OK.” It’s a thing of beauty to watch. He is completely aware of the bounty in his bowl, having heard the sound and smelled the aroma. And yet, his eyes are completely focused on me, not the food, because he wants to see the nano-second I nod my head and begin to utter the “O” sound of OK. Permission is granted and he dives into his dinner.
The second command regarding attention is “Grizzly, Leave it.” When he is distracted by something and I want his attention redirected, I say this. On our walks he is usually on a gentle lead. A cat in a neighbor’s yard, a squirrel in a tree, another walker, especially the lady in our neighborhood who carries dog treats on her walks - any number of things can catch his eye, turn his head and consequently direct his whole extra-large body in the wrong direction. “Grizzly, Leave it! ” means he is to quit looking (which causes him to pull in that direction) and focus on walking by my side looking straight ahead.
Even as an educator who has worked with many adolescents who have attention deficits, I’ve taken for granted most of my life the ability to focus and pay attention. Until recently, I have not thought of the ability to pay attention as a gift from God, nor has it occurred to me to be grateful for it. To receive attention as a gift calls for a response: gratitude and stewardship.
What are the places where God is calling me to ‘stay?’ Where is He asking sit perfectly still and look at Him while the most enticing thing in the world is in the bowl to my right?
What things catch my eye, then turn my head, then pull me from the path He has for me to walk? What is distracting me from the life He wants to give?
“Leave it,” He says.
