Being Generous With Our Attention
· Being
What if our attention is one of the most generous gifts we have to offer?
You know those little signs we buy to remind ourselves of things we already know, but sometimes forget? The ones we hang in our homes, put on our desks, or give to someone because the words seem to say exactly what they need to hear. Sometimes they're encouraging, sometimes a little clever, and occasionally they make us stop and think about how we're living.
This weekend, while wandering through a few local shops in Northern Wisconsin, I started noticing them everywhere. A few stood out enough that I began taking pictures with my phone. One said, "Be present, not perfect." Another encouraged me to "Always believe something amazing is about to happen." And one of my favorites asked, "What's the best that could happen?"
As I looked through the photos later, I realized how closely these little reminders connected to what I've been exploring through Being HumanKind. They were all encouraging us to be more hopeful, more intentional, more appreciative of ourselves and the people around us. And I found it encouraging that so many people are creating, sharing, and buying these messages. Clearly, they speak to something we value and perhaps something we're looking for more of in our lives. But they also made me wonder about something.
If we already know how important kindness, generosity, and connection are, why is it sometimes so difficult to give them the attention they deserve?
That question stayed with me as I was prepping to write today, because I think one of the greatest opportunities we have to make a difference in someone's life begins with something remarkably simple: being generous with our attention.
The Reminders We Keep Looking For
I've spent a lot of time over the past few years thinking and writing about the qualities that make us human, and one thing I've come to appreciate is how much we already know about being good to one another.
Most of us understand the importance of kindness, generosity, gratitude, and connection. We know we should listen more, appreciate the people around us, offer encouragement, and make time for the relationships that matter. Yet knowing something is important doesn't necessarily mean we're practicing it as often as we'd like.
That's part of what makes these little signs so interesting to me. They reflect things we value, but they also remind us of how easily we can lose sight of those values in the middle of busy, complicated lives.
I don't see them as evidence that people have forgotten how to be kind. Quite the opposite. I find it encouraging that we continue to look for ways to remind ourselves and others of what matters. And I think the opportunity is to move those messages beyond the walls where we hang them or the pictures we save on our phones.
What if we took them a little more seriously? What if we treated them as invitations to live differently, even in the smallest ways?
That brings me to something I've been thinking about quite a bit lately: What if our attention is one of the most generous gifts we have to offer?
The Gift We Often Overlook
When we think about generosity, we tend to think about giving money, donating resources, volunteering, or helping someone in need. Those are important expressions of generosity, but there's another kind of giving that is available to almost everyone.
Our attention.
Think about the last time someone gave you their complete attention. They weren't checking their phone, glancing around the room, or mentally preparing their response. They were genuinely interested in what you had to say. There's something meaningful about that experience. It makes us feel seen, respected, and valued.
Now think about the opposite, when you're talking to someone who is only partially listening. They might hear your words, but you can sense that some of their attention is somewhere else. Even when it's unintentional, it changes the way the interaction feels.
I've experienced both sides of that, and I certainly haven't always gotten it right. Between work, family, writing, meetings, and everything else life requires, I find it remarkably easy to let my mind wander toward the next thing. I might be physically sitting with someone while part of my attention is already somewhere else.
In Being HumanKind, I write:
"Being present isn't just about resisting distraction. It's about making a conscious decision to show up, focus, listen, and be honest about where your attention really is."
I think that last part is especially important. Presence isn't simply about removing distractions. It's about recognizing that the way we give our attention communicates something to the people around us. When we give someone our attention, we're also letting them know that they matter.
What Science Tells Us About Being Present
There's fascinating research that helps explain why our attention is so important. In a Harvard study published in Science, researchers Matthew Killingsworth and Daniel Gilbert found that people's minds wandered away from what they were doing in approximately 47 percent of the moments they sampled. They also found that mind-wandering was associated with lower levels of happiness.
Think about that for a moment. According to their research, we can spend nearly half of our waking moments thinking about something other than what we're actually experiencing.
Of course, thinking about the future, reflecting on the past, and allowing our minds to wander can also lead to creativity and meaningful insights. But the findings raise an important question about how much of our lives we move through without fully appreciating what's happening. I wonder how many conversations, opportunities, and small moments of joy we miss because our attention is somewhere else.
Psychologist John Gottman's research on relationships adds another interesting perspective. Gottman describes something he calls bids for connection, the small ways people reach out to one another throughout the day. These can be as simple as asking a question, sharing an observation, seeking encouragement, or wanting someone to notice something alongside us.
In his research with newlyweds, couples who remained married six years later had responded positively to these bids approximately 86 percent of the time, compared with 33 percent among couples who later divorced.
Those findings don't mean we can reduce the success of a relationship to one statistic, but they do highlight how meaningful small moments of attention can be. Think about how often someone makes a bid for connection in your life. Your child wants to show you something. Your spouse mentions something that happened during the day. A coworker stops by to share an idea. A friend calls because they need someone to talk to.
It's easy to see these as interruptions, especially when we have something else on our minds. But what if we started seeing more of them as opportunities?
A Little Ray Boyd in Eagle River
One of my favorite experiences during our visit to Wisconsin happened when we wandered into A Beautiful Calling, a little shop in Eagle River.
The store features beautiful products created by artisans from around the world, including people rebuilding their lives after experiencing human trafficking. What makes the shop special is that the things on the shelves represent opportunities for people to earn a living, support their families, and experience dignity through their work.
But the highlight of our visit wasn't something we purchased. It was a young boy, probably around ten years old, who happened to be the owner's son.
He greeted us with enthusiasm and immediately started telling us about the products, the countries they came from, and how the purchases supported people in need. He moved around the shop pointing things out, eager to explain what he knew and why it mattered.
As I listened, he reminded me of little Ray Boyd, the character played by Jonathan Lipnicki in the movie Jerry Maguire. If you've seen it, you probably remember Ray's wonderful curiosity and his ability to share completely unexpected information with absolute confidence.
At one point in the movie, Ray asks Jerry:
"Did you know that the human head weighs eight pounds?"
It's one of those lines that makes you smile because it's delivered with such genuine enthusiasm. Ray isn't concerned about whether the information fits the conversation. He's simply excited to share something he finds fascinating.
That's exactly the feeling I had standing in this little Wisconsin shop.
As the boy told us about the countries represented by the products, I asked whether he'd ever visited any of them.