On the connection between attention and goodness

My photo files were open to images from Shaw Island this morning, and this one caught my eye: the light, I thought, was lovely: it speaks so clearly of drowsy summer mornings.

I am thinking today -- inspired, of course, by my readings in Desmond Tutu and Richard Rohr -- about goodness, and specifically about the difference between being or doing good, and goodness itself.  It's really like they're on different planes: goodness itself has an extra dimension beyond being and doing.

It's a bit like the difference between natural light and artificial light, I think.  Both are light; and artificial light can be beautiful.  But it doesn't have the depth we see here -- partly because the source is never as distant and pervasive.

Perhaps that's the key to goodness as well: being or doing good are conscious human acts, and we are the source.   But the source of Goodness lies outside -- or perhaps inside -- our selves, in God, which gives it more depth and dimension?

We humans, however much we may have been born to goodness, are inclined to put ourselves and our pleasure first.  As Richard Rohr says, "Unless there is some pressure, social or parental, pushing the infant beyond the pleasure principle, human nature tends to largely take the path of least resistance.  We really do need prods, goads, ideals to help us think outside of the little boxes we all create for ourselves."

But Desmond Tutu takes those prods and goals beyond mere laws and rules and connects them to that larger dimension of goodness:

"The practices of goodness -- noticing, savoring, thinking, enjoying, and being thankful -- are not hard disciplines to learn.  But they are disciplines, and they take practice.  The habits that allow wrong to become entrenched  -- mindlessness or tuning out, inattentiveness, the busyness of doing to distraction, and an ungrateful heart -- can take hold so easily.


Each habit that allows wrong to become entrenched feeds from the others.  Our lives are busy and active.  There is barely a moment to rest.  Doing feeds the distraction that makes us inattentive.  When we carve out time to really rest and be restored, we also restore our ability to be attentive."

And downtime in front of the television, he adds, does not count as rest and restoration.  "Zoning out -- an activity usually accomplished with the aid of a television set -- does not reinvigorate us... We think, "I am busy, tired and stressed, so I am entitle to a respite.  I will zone out in front of the television."  And we continue to be tired, busy and stressed.  Real respite and restoration foster gratitude.  When we allow ourselves to really rest, we can be thankful for the blessing of honest fatigue.  When we experience full  restoration we have the energy to honestly enjoy -- to think and to savor.  Rest and rejuvenation allow us to really pay attention.  And this attention is a key discipline for the practices of goodness."

Hmm.  I had not quite realized that was where this post was going.  And I confess, though I mostly only watch one or two shows a week and a few Netflix, I'm reluctant to give them up.  But I suspect these are important words to ponder: what new spirit of goodness might be awakened in me if, instead of spending an hour in front of the tube, I spent that hour just... resting?  And what would that look like?

Hmmm.