Attention
“Attention is an effort, the greatest of all efforts
perhaps, but it is a negative effort. Of itself, it does not involve tiredness.
When we become tired, attention is scarcely possible any more, unless we have
already had a good deal of practice. It is better to stop working altogether, to
seek some relaxation, and then a little later to return to the task; we have to
press on and loosen up alternately, just as we breathe in and out.
...Not only does the love of God have attention for its substance; the love of our neighbour, which we know to be the same love, is made of this same substance. Those who are unhappy have no need for anything in this world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one’s attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. Nearly all those who think they have this capacity do not possess it. Warmth of heart, impulsiveness, pity are not enough.
Twenty minutes of concentrated, untired attention is
infinitely better than three hours of the kind of frowning application which
leads us to say with a sense of duty done: ‘I have worked well!’
But, in spite of all appearances, it is also far more
difficult. There is something in our soul which has a far more violent
repugnance for true attention than the flesh has for bodily fatigue. This
something is much more closely connected with evil than is the flesh. That is why
every time that we really concentrate our attention, we destroy the evil in
ourselves. If we concentrate with this intention, a quarter of an hour of
attention is better than a great many good works.
Attention consists of suspending our thought, leaving it
detached, empty and ready to be penetrated by the object. It means holding in
our minds, within reach of this thought, but on a lower level and not in
contact with it, the diverse knowledge we have acquired which we are forced to
make use of. Our thought should be in relation to all particular and already
formulated thoughts as a man on a mountain who, as he looks forward, sees also
below him, without actually looking at them, a great many forests and plains.
Above all our thought should be empty, waiting, not seeking anything, but ready
to receive in its naked truth the object which is to penetrate it.
...Not only does the love of God have attention for its substance; the love of our neighbour, which we know to be the same love, is made of this same substance. Those who are unhappy have no need for anything in this world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one’s attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. Nearly all those who think they have this capacity do not possess it. Warmth of heart, impulsiveness, pity are not enough.
...The love of our neighbour in all its fullness simply means
being able to say to him: ‘What are you going through?’ It is a recognition
that the sufferer exists, not only as a unit in a collection, or a specimen from
the social category labelled ‘unfortunate,’ but as a man, exactly like us, who
was one day stamped with a special mark by affliction. For this reason it is enough,
but it is indispensable, to know how to look at him in a certain way.
This way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul
empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the
being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth.
Only he who is capable of attention can do this.”
~Simone Weil
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