Being in the moment is in many respects the opposite process to the normal functioning of the brain, which appears to be the chunking together of moments into familiar scenes and patterns to be matched with familiar responses and solutions. This saves the brain a lot of work, so its natural mechanism is to pull me out of the moment and back into my head. Being in my head – or thinking – relies on the reasonable assumption that nothing particularly fatal is likely to happen over a period of several moments and that the brain can use that time to put its feet up and generate a response to a chunk of moments rather than create each moment from first principles. Being in the moment, in each and every moment, is therefore something like an act of will where the will persuades the brain that each moment is actually fatal; this requires me to be intensely interested in what is going on outside my head, and to live each moment as if it were my last.
Top players often report on how they see game situations open up as if they were in the matrix; sports players talk about how time stands still and suddenly they see the playing area as a space without time. These players are able to see being in the moment as an act of will, attention as something we really do pay (for), and being interested in the world outside our head as a simple discipline which can be developed and strengthened. Many of the techniques of pick-up purport to teach a man how to be interesting – telling stories and jokes, performing magic tricks, having exciting hobbies, but the argument which follows here is that we are never more interesting than when we are interested in the other person.
“Being in the moment, in each and every moment, is therefore something like an act of will where the will persuades the brain that each moment is actually fatal; this requires me to be intensely interested in what is going on outside my head, and to live each moment as if it were my last.”
Yes, absolutely. In a way it’s a habit. You’re training your mind to work in a particular way rather than another way.
Do you know the stereotype of the bumbling professor who can understand the complexities of quantum mechanics but who barely notices what’s going on around him? The stereotype’s partially true, and I’ve met plenty of professors like that. The reason? Their mind, through force of habit, has adapted to thinking inside, reacting to internal dialogues and images, internal discussions, rather than what’s going on outside. And it works. If you’re an academic professor, this is exactly what you need to do – on your day job, anyway.
Now consider, let’s say, a taxi driver. Most of them are pretty switched on, and just have an instinct for what’s going on in the world and spatial awareness. The same principle applies here. It even seems to manifest at a physical level – there was a study recently which, believe it or not, showed structural changes in taxi drivers’ brains. (And I even have a link – check it out http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7613621.stm)
I see “focusing outward” in this way as a way of training your brain to get into the habit of noticing what’s going on around you. It’s an act of will, like you say, but you may find that over time it becomes something you do naturally.
Didnt know the forum rules allowed such blriliant posts.