In this age of instant connectivity, one connection many of us have lost is the one to our inner stillness. It is out of that inner stillness that what is often called our “still quiet voice” might arise. And as many of us know, listening to that quiet voice often leads to the greatest changes and joys in our life.
As a long-time meditator here in Missoula, I have learned to watch my mind, on both the micro-level of moment-to-moment thoughts and feelings arising, and the macro-level of habit patterns and moods.
However, in much of my life these days, I find myself falling into the “busy trap.” That trap happens when I allow myself to max out my time and energy on projects. Along the way, I set aside my personal time for meditation, quiet, and seclusion. And I begin to rely on outside stimuli to bring me my moments of calm.
Rather than fluidly moving from project to project, at home, with family, and at work, I jerk from one thing to another, often leaving each unfinished or poorly attended.
Multitasking isn’t real
When I was in college 20 years ago, multitasking, or working on multiple things all at once, was the rage. Everyone was trying to maximize their productivity in order to have the most free time to relax and have fun. We were led to believe that if we set things up right, we could jump from studies, to a job, to socializing, to personal needs, and back in rapid succession and get them all “done” quickly.
But the reality, we found out in the early 2000s and into the 2010s, is that multitasking isn’t real. In fact, when we jump from one task to the next, part of our mental energy lingers with the last thing for some time: maybe a few minutes, maybe longer. Then, when we jump to yet another thing, our mental energy might still be partly on task 1 and partly on task 2, leaving only partial attention available for our 3rd task.
So while we think we’re doing task 3 quickly, we’re actually going much more slowly than if we had just focused on it alone.
Social media makes it worse
As I’ve written here a number of times, social media just makes this worse. While we’re working on a task or spending time with a loved one, the pull of a new “ding” as a notification comes in is powerful. We never know if it might be something important. Likely, it is not. But we justify checking and soon we’re entering the “scroll stare” where we’ve completely lost touch with our work or friend and find ourselves just glued to the screen.
Before social media we also had the 24-hour cable news cycle, which helped set the stage for mobile devices. TV news gradually shifted from providing important information to providing entertainment. They learned that in order to keep people glued to the screen, they needed to manipulate us on a deep, emotional level.
How seclusion breaks the cycle
Seclusion helps to break us free of this impulse toward external stimuli by simply cutting it off. For seclusion to work, we will probably need well-established rules and boundaries.
Luckily for us in Western Montana, there are lots of places around that we can go and quickly find ourselves without cell phone coverage. We can go there for the day. Or camp for a night or two. All with proper planning and safety in mind, of course.
Or we can team up with a friend or loved one and set a “device free” day, when the two of you agree to use no TV, radio, computer, or cell phones or any other media item. Have your morning coffee or breakfast. Go for a walk together. Come home and rest. Read books or play games. Eat together. Enjoy the food and one another’s company. Talk. Share stories. Maybe make some art together or work on a project.
It is amazing how much can be done when one tunes out the constant noise of our world. And it is amazing how tuned in we can become to a friend or family member. Alone, too, we can follow this pattern, foregoing music and reading even, to really push the mind to be here, now.
The difficulty of seclusion
Buddhists speak highly of seclusion, and tend to make it part of their practice. This is either a regular thing for monastics, or as an occasional experience for laypeople. But in both cases, there is a warning. If you do not undertake preliminary work to live a moral life, then seclusion will be difficult.
The reasoning is that we bring the mess of our own minds into seclusion. This is precisely why some people avoid seclusion at all costs: they’d be forced to listen to themselves!
But even if it’s not outright terrifying, seclusion can sound difficult. Robert M. Pirsig wrote in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance that “The only Zen you find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there.”
What we find in seclusion is us. Initially, for most of us, this is not something we might like. We live in a world where we have probably internalized a fair amount of trauma, grief, and anxiety. We can avoid all of that with technology and socializing for a while, but in seclusion it all comes boiling up.
The good news is that much of this discomfort is temporary. We allow things to arise, we acknowledge them, and we move on. This process takes time and effort. Little moments of seclusion such as a 3-5 minute meditation each morning can get us started. Then 10-20 minutes. And so on, until we become comfortable enough with ourselves to spend longer periods exploring our inner depths.
Justin Whitaker, Ph.D., holds a doctorate in Buddhist ethics from the University of London. He has given lectures, and taught Buddhist studies and Philosophy at Oxford University, the University of Hong Kong, the University of Montana, and at Antioch University’s intensive study-abroad program in India. A certified meditation teacher, he is a regular contributor to Patheos.com, and Senior Correspondent for Buddhistdoor Global. Justin is the official blog writer for Sunflower Counseling MT in Missoula, Butte, Kalispell, Billings, and surrounding areas. He lives in Missoula with his family.