Words by Jodi Wilson
As a writer, I spend a lot of time staring out the window. For too long I presumed this was my form of creative procrastination; looking past the laptop on my desk and letting my gaze wander from the sky to the tree to the Grey Goshawk that glides across the ridge of the hill. I watch the seasons change from this window, I untangle thought threads and sometimes come up with bright new ideas.
It’s not procrastination at all, it’s soft fascination. Also known as ‘mindfulness without the meditation’, it’s the mental state we slip into when we are in nature (or looking at it through the window), where our attention isn’t harnessed by sensory stimuli but gently fascinated by them: the sway of a tree, the falling of a leaf, the ebbing tide. It’s like downtime for our brain, which is why it is such a powerful practice for everyone, but especially those who are engaged in hours of focused, hard attention (on a screen) on a regular basis. Nature doesn’t require direct attention but allows us to move through it with a lightness of being, which creates the opportunity for both self-reflection and mental reprieve. The results? Mental decluttering, clearer thoughts, more aha moments.
I casually refer to soft fascination as ‘awe’s little sister’. Of course, when we go chasing the awe inspiring moments, we miss the opportunity to be softly fascinated by what’s right in front of us. I’m referencing nature, mostly but I’m also talking about the humdrum of life. When success is framed as rapture, normality is left lacklustre yet it’s in the quiet, everyday moments where we can learn to care for ourselves in meaningful ways.
Soft fascination is a charming concept for us to consider as we ache for a slower and simpler existence despite the demanding busyness of our lives. It is the counterbalance to a screen-based routine which does precisely what it was designed to do: keep us in a ‘ludic loop’; a repeated cycle of uncertainty, anticipation and feedback, holding our attention and pulling us away from ourselves.
It’s here, online and distracted, that the drive to succeed is reiterated and it’s defined by everything our late-stage capitalist world reveres: productivity and achievement. It’s ingrained in us that we should always be ‘doing better’ and ‘being better’ but what this fails to recognise is our humanness; the undeniable fact that we are nature. Yes, the world expects 24 hour consistency but that is biologically impossible; no human can consistently work without intentional and habitual rest. The same goes for multitasking: it’s celebrated (and often necessary for women and mothers because our responsibilities demand it) but it’s actually a non-existent cognitive skill; the brain is incapable of doing it.
What the brain can do is switch quickly between tasks. Every time we switch tasks our brain needs to close one neural pathway and activate another which contributes to cognitive fatigue and irritability. We do it on screens too; ‘digitally switching’ is when we switch between apps and tabs, a form of procrastination that decreases our productivity and increases our exhaustion. This high-prevalence switching is a simple way of explaining the mental load; it’s also a significant contributing factor to our overwhelm.
Scrolling and switching clutters the brain; soft fascination clears space and is necessary for clarity, creativity and contentment. As for living in a world that always expects us to do more? That’s where the indigenous economic concept of ‘enoughness’ can be a lens for our decision making.
We are inundated with choice when it comes to what we buy but that’s not always a good thing because if we’re conscious consumers, we want to make the best decision for our budget, the environment and longevity. And so we spend hours thinking about what is better and what is best and that decision making process gets added to the mental load that we already carry. I know that when I’m busy and distracted, it’s difficult to maintain a thrifty mindset and I suppose that’s capitalism working as intended. But enoughness is always there to create a boundary and it can help us live more sustainably and with less stress. Ask yourself: ‘what’s enough for me right now?’ and also: ‘what’s enough for me to live well?’ There are two currencies in life: time and money, and enoughness applies seamlessly to both.
