I’ve noticed that my attention span has bottomed-out as of late. Even as I started to write this, I stopped after writing the title to visit two websites, fix myself some tea, and get some music going in the background. I can’t pay attention like I used to in a good book – having a device containing all the knowledge (and opinion) of the world in my pocket is a difficult temptation to resist.
Still, though, I’ve found the occasional activity that takes up my attention in a very mindful way and provides a little mental peace.
One is, strangely enough, peeling oranges. I got together with my family for an early Christmas at a rented cabin and we had to bring food for the weekend. I brought a bag of oranges as a snack, but we ended up not opening them since we had so much of everything else. I took them back home and wasn’t sure if I could eat them all before they went bad. They were small so I would sometimes peel a couple in a single sitting.
Peeling an orange takes two hands and some concentration to do well. I have an orange peeler tool with a hook to cut the skin in a neat line. The other end, or a fingernail, pulls the edge away from the fruit – slowly working it loose until the peel comes off in as big of a single piece as I can manage. Moving on to the rest of the peel until it’s all removed, then some clean-up of the rind – never perfect but not needing to be. Then careful study to find the line between two slices that will separate the fruit evenly. Each segment removed individually and studied for a moment in the light before being eaten – like tasting sunshine on a clear day.
Each step is distinctive and requires separate techniques – but all fit together to accomplish the goal. And if the segments of fruit can be shared, all the better.
I finished the whole bag and enjoyed the quiet focus of peeling them almost as much as I did eating the fruit. And a little extra vitamin C doesn’t hurt.
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That same trip, my family exchanged Christmas gifts and I got a quill pen from my folks. It was something I had asked for – something interesting to try – and the feathered pen came with ink, a stand, and several nibs. It took some time for me to find the right nib for my writing and even longer to get used to the timing to dip into the ink.
My handwriting is terrible and I started with printing to get used to it. When I switched to script I had to look up a few of the letters again and bought some lined paper to work on my spacing.
Should be less surprising that this activity too is very mindful – the Japanese culture and script makes writing into an art unto its own – but it surprised me at how much I enjoyed practicing this. I got a little lost in filling page after page with writing – even digging into books to find quotes to copy out so I’d have something to write about.
No phones, no TV, just a little music in the background or some comfortable silence.
If I’m careful and take it slowly, focusing on each letter at a time, my script is getting towards…passable. I’m a long way from “elegant”, but zoning out and getting lost in the rhythm of dipping into the ink is welcome.
So, that’s it. Peeling oranges and writing quotes from “Dune” with a quill pen. Those are pretty much the main things keeping my head together these days.