Chapter 3: Cultivating Attention

Wake Up to Your Life - Kickoff Essay
by Andrew Schwartz (schwartzandrew -at- msn.com)

Chapter 3: Cultivating Attention

Chapter 3 focuses on meditation, the basic method in Buddhism for cultivating attention. McLeod describes what attention is and what it can do, instructs us in meditating and developing a consistent practice, and finally sheds light on the nature of reactive patterns and on precisely how the cultivation of attention can dismantle such patterns.

SUMMARY

Since our endeavor is one of personal change, McLeod begins by setting the context, making a differentiation between two kinds of change: change by force and change by choice.

Change by force involves the willful pursuit of a path while remaining blind to internal signals that suggest that something might be amiss.

Change by choice on the other hand bases itself on calm awareness of patterns and possibilities. Aware of one's inner field, one is able to let go of some options and pursue others, creating change that is healthy and positively transformative.

From here, McLeod moves onto discussing that basic ingredient of awareness: attention. What precisely is attention? McLeod distinguishes two types: Passive attention and Active attention.

Passive attention is "unstable, reactive, and involuntary." In passive attention, I operate on the basis of habits, my neuromuscular machinery operating mechanistically, uninformed by any sustained purpose or interest.

Each sensation or feeling or thought or behavior causes another sensation or feeling or thought or behavior, like a string of dominoes collapsing one against the other in succession, fatefully.

Active attention by contrast is "volitional, stable, and inclusive." In active attention, I operate on the basis of a chosen object of attention—a chosen purpose that informs what I do and what I am aware of over a sustained period of time. I am open and aware of sensations, feelings and thoughts in my field of awareness while I behave in alignment with the purpose I have chosen for myself. I am present to the world and not constrained by the chains of conditioned habits.

Grasp the nature of these two forms of attention and the relationship between them by considering the following quote: "To be in [active] attention means that the energy directed at what is experienced is at a higher level than the energy in the reactive patterns triggered by that experience."

Active attention is the path to dissolving mechanistic patterns of passive attention and to living with increased presence and awareness. This is the crux, the essence of our path of personal growth.

McLeod goes on to describe the basic method of this path—meditation—but before he does, he works to remove possible misconceptions from our minds about what attention and meditation is all about. First, he says that meditation is not about learning "control." We cannot control what we experience, he says; one of the points of meditation is to let go of our desire to do so. [In my commentary section, I will point out what seems to be a package-deal in McLeod's approach to "control."]

Also, importantly, McLeod presents a view of attention that exhibits an important difference from the Objectivist conception of focus: He says that attention per se is not something that we can directly ~do~ -- only something we can ~cultivate~ by doing certain simple actions repeatedly (in the case of meditation, bringing attention back to the breath when it wanders). He makes an analogy to growing a plant. No one can directly ~do~ a plant—one can however plant seeds, make sure the plant has proper light, and water the plant regularly. Given these actions, the plant "does" itself. According to McLeod, the same holds true of attention.

Think of the implications for self-trust and inner serenity: "We all have the seed of attention already. The seed is natural awareness, or original mind." In this view, attention is ~a quality we already possess~ -- such that the work is not to create it, nor even in a sense, to maintain it—but rather to uncover it and stabilize its liberated presence.

With the context set, McLeod introduces meditation as the method for cultivating attention in the following passage:

There is really only one way to cultivate attention: take a simple activity that requires attention but not much intellectual effort, and do it again and again. Whenever attention lapses, bring it back to the task and continue. The activity, whatever it is, serves as the basis for attention.

In this case, we use the activity of breathing.

McLeod names one key principle of meditation: "Return to what is already there and rest." This principle is applied in three ways:

Physical Posture: We return to the natural straightness of the body whenever we notice our body has gone out of natural alignment.

The Breath: We return to "natural, relaxed breathing" whenever we notice we are breathing tensely or not at all.

[I'd like to say a few words about "natural, relaxed breathing." McLeod helped me understand what is meant by this by advising that we "[let] the body do the breathing." Also, McLeod says the signal of our loss of such natural breathing is "tension between the body and the breath." So, to elaborate, the idea here is ~not~ to breath consciously—and on the other hand not to hold the breath. Rather, the idea is to attend consciously to the breath, ~however the breathing is done by the body free of any repressive or controlling influences~. In other words, stay out of the way of the breath and just watch. Don't hold the breath, but don't control the breathing either. Whether the breath is naturally fast or slow, shallow or deep, just watch it without judgment. I emphasize this point because I think it can make a big practical difference in how one meditates, especially because in new age circles breathing sometimes acquires a deontological tinge, funny as that may sound.]

The Mind: We return to "clear, stable attention that rests on the breath" whenever we notice that we have become distracted by thoughts or have drifted into dullness or sleepiness.

How do we place attention on the breath in the first place? By putting "a slight emphasis on the exhalation." Then, for attention to remain, nothing further need be done, simply ~resting~ -- that is, resting attention on the breath.

McLeod also notes that when attention falls off the breath, as it inevitably will do, one might chastise oneself or think about how much one would prefer to be doing something else or think that meditation doesn't work well. He points out however that such thoughts are precisely the kinds of distractions we are learning to lessen the power of in our meditative endeavor.

To meditate, McLeod says, we need patience, gentleness, and a sense of humor.

Finally, McLeod offers a metaphor to assist us in meditation:

Body like a mountain.
Breath like the wind.
Mind like the sky.

I think that's a valuable little saying. Body like a mountain. Breath like the wind. Mind like the sky.

Next, McLeod offers a helpful set of distinctions for understanding the nature of our practice: He distinguishes Purpose, Method, Effects, and Results.

The Purpose of meditation is to cultivate attention.

The Method of meditation is to repeatedly return to the breath.

The Effects of meditation vary from session to session—sometimes we feel free and clear, other times we feel as though we are in the middle of a storm, while other times we experience something in between.

The Results of meditation are "increased clarity and stability in attention, less reactivity."

A key purpose of making this distinction is to avoid confusing the Method (returning to the breath) with certain possible Effects of meditation (being in a pleasant meditative state). As a beginning meditator, we might shift focus from returning to the breath—the method—to attempting to produce or reproduce one of the possible effects of meditation, a pleasant meditative state; this, however, is an error, and leads to difficulties.

In other words, it is important to realize that the Effects of meditation will vary from session to session. (I would add, it is also important to know that the Purpose of meditation is achieved not primarily by the Effects, valuable though those may be, but by the Method: returning to the breath.) When one realizes this, one approaches meditation with greater equanimity, enthusiasm, and a sense of confidence. Producing or reproducing a meditative state is for some of us extremely difficult; returning to the breath however is something we all can do.

McLeod next discusses "Six Supports for Meditation Practice." His goal is to describe how to create the kind of context one needs in order to support a worthwhile practice. One needs to have a good place to meditate and a delineated time where one is absolutely free from distraction; one needs to be properly nourished and to have enough sleep; one needs to have enough time; one needs to be willing to let go of obsessions and reactive emotions (drama), and one needs to have ethical behavior so as to have a clear mind.

The basic idea here is that meditation done as a whim or a fancy is not as valuable as meditation practiced as a valued, stable and integrated part of one's life. (I would add that this applies even if one wishes to experiment with meditation; better to experiment by making meditation a stable and integrated part of one's life for, say, two months, as an initial experiment, than to whimsically give meditation a try here and there, when you feel like it.)

To give us a conceptual roadmap for the experiences we will encounter in cultivating attention, McLeod introduces and distinguishes the concepts of "mindfulness" and "awareness."

When for the first time we experience clear and sustained attention on the object of our consciousness, we can call this experience mindfulness. For McLeod, this is "the first experience of any degree of presence."

We might also, at a certain point, experience a shift, such that our Mindfulness suddenly feels effortless, and we feel ourselves open to the whole field of sensations in our context, without these sensations distracting us from the object of our attention. This experience is called Awareness.

So, Mindfulness is sustained, clear focus on an object of attention, while Awareness is also inclusive of context.

McLeod suggests that when we first experience mindfulness, we should begin to practice our meditation skills during our day when we do simple activities, using the activity as the object of attention like we do the breath in meditation. The activity could be eating, washing dishes, or walking.

Now that we have a roadmap, McLeod gives us the basic idea and technique for remaining ~balanced~ in attention during a meditation sit. The idea is that there are two ways for the mind to fall off of balance: by slipping into busy-ness, and by slipping into dullness. The technique is to apply relaxation when the mind slips into busy-ness, and to apply "energizing" when the mind slips into dullness.

This goes beyond returning to the breath: McLeod is here giving us a means for making ~adjustments~ during a meditation session so as to develop stable and clear attention, like the subtle adjustments one makes in order to stay balanced on a bicycle.

McLeod next describes the stages of improvement one experiences in one's attention over a long period of stable meditation practice. Summary does not do justice to these skillful descriptions of subtly improving qualities of attention, so I will simply summarize by saying: Attention gets pretty good after a while!

Penultimately, McLeod discusses Roadblocks on the path of attention, and how to think of and deal with them. McLeod covers, among other things:

-the importance of connecting with one's motivation to meditate

-the importance of effort and "choicelessness" (read: commitment) based on one's knowledge of the value of meditation (that is, I'd add to avoid dogmatism, if one is indeed genuinely sold on its value)

-the importance of trusting that you already possess "the seed of attention—natural awareness"

-the importance of feeling competent, that is, of actually knowing the nuts and bolts of how to do meditation, and of understanding that meditation is ~not~ equivalent to the meditative state one may or may not experience in any given sit, but rather meditation means what one does with one's experiences

Finally, McLeod discusses the psychology of reactive emotional processes and how attention can be used to dismantle them, transforming their energy into the energy of attention. (As I will discuss in my commentary, this section in my view presents the most rational nuts-and-bolts basic psychological theory I have ever encountered.)

McLeod first describes the causes of reactive processes as past experience:

"Reaction is always based on past experience. Elements of any present situation resonate with the past and trigger habituated patterns that formed and developed on the basis of past experience. When patterns are triggered, attention goes out the window. What we see, what we feel, and what we do are shaped by the complex interactions of conditioned patterns from the past."

McLeod then differentiates five steps of a reactive process:

1. Sensory stimulus (the event that triggers the process)

2. Feeling tone (pleasant, unpleasant, neutral)

3. Interpretation (this event means such and such)

4. Reactive Emotion (so I feel such and such)

5. Expression in Action (and so I behave like this)

This is the mechanism of a reactive process; the whole process happens automatically.

With attention, though, we can "step in" and dismantle steps of the process, dismantling closer and closer to the very inception of the process as we improve our attention.

First, we become able to step in before step 5, and, feeling a reactive emotion, we can choose not to express that emotion in action, instead mindfully choosing our action from among the range of alternatives open to us.

As attention improves further, we become able to notice the shift from step 3 to step 4, and we are actually able to choose not to have the reactive emotion itself. When we do so, we become aware of the associations and conditioning from the past involved with our interpretation of the event.

With further improvement, we are able to dismantle even these interpetations with their associations and conditioning.

At this stage we are left with the sensory stimulus and the associated feeling tone, and a final reactive emotion of attraction, aversion or indifference. With further work we can dismantle even this basic reaction.

(This leaves us, we can infer, with clean awareness, the experience-innate sensations of pleasure, pain and neutrality, and the ability to make choices mindfully.)

McLeod continues by saying a few words about the key phenomenon of ~choice~:

"Choice depends on being able to perceive an alternative. If you are unable to perceive an alternative, the notion of choice is meaningless. When the reactive process is running, there is no awareness. To act differently, you have to have free attention. Free attention is energy that is not consumed by habituated patterns. With it, you see and experience events differently. New possibilities of action open up."

Making further psychological distinctions, McLeod notes three things that can be done with reactive emotions:

1. One can express them.

2. One can repress them.

3. One can hold them in attention by "(resting) attention on the breath and (including) the experience of the emotion."

The third alternative tends to dissolve the reactive emotion and transform its energy into attention.

COMMENTARY

1. Comparing and Contrasting the Buddhist conception of "Attention" with the Objectivist Conception of "Focus"

I don't know of any traditions other than Buddhism (as presented by McLeod) and Objectivism that recognize so starkly the importance of focusing the mind. Objectivism distinguishes between a state of drift and a state of focus, while Buddhism similarly distinguishes between passive and active attention.

Given the fundamentality of the issue, there's little wonder that when we delve into the traditions' respective ethics, we see further parallels: rationality and right mindfulness, productivity and right livelihood, integrity and right action, pride and right effort.

Seeing these similarities, it is fascinating to examine the differences in the two conceptions of Focus/Attention. I think they are of great consequence.

The basic theme of the differences in my view is that Buddhism places more trust in the organism's capacity to attend and sees attention as a skill to be practiced and developed over time. Objectivism places less trust in the organism and, at the same time, sees focus not as a skill but as a state that "must be willed continuously" (Peikoff, OPAR, p. 59).

To flesh out these differences, notice perhaps the most basic: McLeod advances the notion that attention is, in a sense, a ~natural~ state of the human organism, one which becomes overshadowed only by the development of reactive patterns. (I would add that different people develop reactive patterns in varying degrees, depending on varying life circumstances and choices.) He writes:

"We all have the seed of attention already. The seed is natural awareness, or original mind. Natural awareness is present in every moment of experience but is usually obscured by conditioned patterns. For attention to grow, the operation of habituated patterns has to be interrupted, at least temporarily."

Contrast this with Harry Binswanger's view that "The distinctive nature of man calls for the deliberate, volitional turning on of one's consciousness," which—not desiring to take Binswanger out of context—seems to imply that the "natural" state of man's consciousness is that it is turned off. (Quote from a description of Harry Binswanger's "Volition as Cognitive Self-Regulation" in Second Renaissance Books catalogue.)

Thus, while Buddhism sees the cultivation of attention as a kind of uncovering process and a process of stabilizing that which is already there, one might reasonably suggest that Objectivism tends to view focus as a constant volitional "bringing into being," suggesting that focus is something like a constant volitional chore or duty.

Here is another important difference: Buddhism recognizes that attention can become self-sustaining, while Objectivism does not (at least in theory—Rand's fiction is more ambiguous on this point). McLeod describes the state of awareness that one can experience in meditation after doing the work of stabilizing the attention on the breath: "One day, you again experience a shift—a sense of opening into a larger space, of relaxing, of resting with the breath with much less effort. Meditation is suddenly surprisingly easy. You are relaxed and aware."

I don't believe Rand the philosopher would ever describe a kind of focus as "surprisingly easy," even if she recognizes the possibility of flowing awareness in her fiction. And consider Peikoff's statement in OPAR (p. 59): "The essence of a volitional consciousness is the fact that its operation always demands the same fundamental effort of initiation and then of maintenance across time" (emphasis added).

Finally, Buddhism includes a sophisticated psychological understanding of barriers to attention, and, viewing attention as a skill, includes sophisticated tools and methods for dismantling these barriers and achieving greater attention over time. The tradition has a sophisticated conceptualization of how experience leads to complex conditioned habit patterns that cannot simply be squashed, but must be gently attended to in order to be understood and dissolved.

Objectivism's cognitive theory of psychology on the other hand—encapsulized by the notion that one's ideas determine one's emotional responses—is somewhat simplistic, and provides little understanding or technology for improving focus over time. Rand generally advocates in her fiction a rather authoritarian means of dealing with one's perceived irrational emotional reactions (Roark wants to blast through his painful emotions like he does the rock in the quarry).

This authoritarian means of dealing with emotions was once expressed in more extreme form by a very prominent orthodox objectivist, who said in my presence that the proper way to deal with irrational emotional reactions is (and I'm quoting almost word for word), "to get angry at them and to yell at them. You say, ‘No! You're wrong!' And you have to keep doing that over and over again, until you actually kill the response."

Given all these considerations—Buddhism's conception of attention as an already present capacity to be uncovered and stabilized, its recognition of the possibility of attention that becomes self-sustaining, its treatment of attention as a skill to be acquired and improved over time, and its conceptualization of the barriers to attention in emotional reactivity and its useful methods for dismantling these barriers and cultivating attention—I would say we Objectivists can learn much from the Buddhists on the issue of Attention/Focus.

2. The Buddhist Path of Attention as Complimentary with the Objectivist Virtue of Rationality

One can profitably view reactive processes, in an Objectivist context, as "irrationalities"—reactions and behaviors out of alignment with one's full context of knowledge and experiential data. Further, reactive processes can be viewed as out of alignment with one's purposes and value hierarchy, and with the nature of the present situation in which they arise. (To preempt a possible misunderstanding, I don't mean in this context to imply a moral judgment by using the concept "irrationality.")

As McLeod describes, when we are in the midst of a reactive pattern, "the notion of choice is meaningless." The pattern dictates what we do. We do not have even intuitive access to the sum of our past experiences; we are not necessarily connected experientially with our priorities and value hierarchy; and we are not even necessarily awake to the full and exact nature of the present situation.

In this way, one can see the endeavor of learning to dissolve reactive patterns as a nuts-and-bolts path to increased rationality—that is, increased ability to behave in alignment with one's priorities and goals, the current situation, and one's full context of knowledge.

While reading McLeod's section about "Working with Reactive Patterns," where he wrote, "As you practice meditation, you see the possibility of an opening between steps 4 and 5; you see a difference between the reactive emotion of anger and the expression of that anger in action. Attention enables us to differentiate between the feeling and the expression of feeling," I became quite excited and wrote in the margin, in an excited tone of pen, "McLeod is describing the essence of irrationality on a sensory motor level!" (Again, with no moral judgment of "irrationality" in this context implied.)

And it occurred to me—Buddhism is like a sensory-motor version of Objectivism. Rand specialized in conceptual and productive rationality. The Buddha specialized more in sensory-motor rationality. What a complementary pair!

(When I'm sent to the first rung of hell after I die—you know, in Dante's version—I'll have to have a cocktail party and invite both Ayn Rand and the Buddha. You should come too, Joshua.)

3. Two Passages I Find (Mildly) Problematic:

     A. On page 52, McLeod writes, "Many people initially approach meditation thinking that they will learn to control the mind. Control is an illusion; we cannot even direct what our next thought will be." McLeod then proves his point, skillfully, by bringing up amoebas, a topic no reader chose to consider when deciding to read McLeod's book.

I think McLeod overstates his case, however, and presents a false alternative between a neurotic view of total control of experience, and the view that we can have no control of experience—the latter an idea the whole Buddhist project obviously contradicts. A better attitude about control is expressed in a quote someone sent me just a few days ago: "I can't choose how I feel, but I can choose what I do about it." Substitute: I can't choose what I experience, but I can choose what I do about it. Meaning, ~indirectly~ I have a good measure of long-term control over what I experience in life.

I'm sure McLeod wouldn't argue with the content of what I'm saying. I do think though that relinquishing the very concept of control to the neurotics could conceivably have undesirable consequences.

     B. On page 76, McLeod reiterates his conviction that the only true and worthwhile motivation to meditate is suffering, or discomfort. He writes, "interest in internal work is always based on discomfort. Discomfort of one sort or another is the fundamental reason to change anything: the position in which we sit, our job, or how we experience life.

"The touchstone for interest in meditation ultimately comes from the discomfort of feeling separate, incomplete, or asleep to the vitality of the world. When you feel that discomfort, you are in touch with the reason you came to meditation."

I can relate to being motivated by suffering and don't have any problem with it per se—for several years in my early twenties my personal growth work was motivated in this way, and I did wonderful work and improved my condition enormously.

At a certain point, however, I didn't experience myself as suffering so much any more, and my motivations to improve started being more focused along the lines of cultivating and improving my joy in life.

Meditation, which I came to a year ago, has never quite been about suffering for me, I don't think. There are other things that I do for suffering, so, again, I'm not averse to the idea per se. But as far as meditation is concerned, I experience myself as more stimulated by the cultivation of that pristine attention and the freedom from reactive patterns that meditation brings. I'm aware of suffering in my life and am enthusiastic about the ways in which meditation can reduce such suffering, but it isn't really why I meditate.

Given the benefits I've gotten from meditation so far, I'd tend to dispute McLeod's claim that discomfort must be the reason we come to meditation.

And this clues into the question Peter raised about suffering and the prominent place it has in the Buddhist framework. I'm not particularly offended by this, because Buddhists are not at all obsessed with suffering—it is simply considered the starting place. The fact is, if suffering is the absence of joy, then whether you ~start~ by wanting to diminish suffering or by wanting to increase joy, you wind up in the same place if you are honest. Each endeavor requires the other. I cannot relieve suffering without working toward increased joy. I cannot work toward increased joy without attending to areas of suffering in my life. And I think Buddhists recognize and practice this just fine. As I think Ross mentioned on the psychology list, those Buddhists have such lovely smiles!

The possible problem I see in terms of McLeod's emphasis on discomfort as the only real motivation to meditate is: wouldn't McLeod's emphasis tend to create unnecessary suffering in life? The reason being, with this conception, in order to continue having motivation to meditate and grow, it seems one must continue experiencing discomfort.

DISCUSSION

     1. In order to flesh out the idea of reactive patterns and attention as a way to dissolve them, would anyone be willing to share stories of "reactivity"? And possibly ways you learned to deal with them?

     2. Does anyone ~not~ see a connection between the concept of rationality and the Buddhist path of dismantling reactive patterns and cultivating attention? I think this is a wonderful aspect of the chapter to focus on.

     3. McLeod seems to say that attention cannot be directly done, but can only be cultivated through the practice of returning to the object of attention and "resting." This is different from the Objectivist conception of focus as requiring sustained effort, and actually the Buddhist notion here strikes me as counter-intuitive. Which alternative way of viewing attention/focus is better? Or do you think they are both correct in different aspects?