Pay attention!

How attention and memory are linked. Plus an exercise that puts this into practice.

A while back, I told you about my friend Pete. He was the one who introduced me to the idea of a cow path—the tracks left by cattle who, when introduced to a new field, will walk all the way around its edge and create a mental map of its boundaries—the range they have to work within—before they return to the entrance. Only then do they begin to munch their way into the field. I mentioned the idea again two weeks ago, when I outlined my own version of the cow path—my loose outline for the future of this publication/newsletter.

Any sensible plan requires three pieces of information—

1. We need to know where we’re starting from. Point A.

2. We need to know where we’re going. Point B.

3. And we need to know—or to work out—how we’re going to get from A to B. 

I had a very clear destination in mind for this article. I thought I knew the steps I’d take you through to get you there. But even though I’ve been circling the boundaries, I’ve been struggling to find my way back to the entrance—a way into this article. Where’s my starting point? 

I have an exercise to share with you, but I need to put it into context. To explain why, on my new cow plan, this is the first exercise I’m sharing. 

So instead of getting on with the writing, I’m faffing about with a dozen distractions. Pretending to work—to write—while really I’m watching an endless stream of shit videos on Facebook and Instagram and YouTube—scrolling and flipping from one platform to another so seamlessly that I have no idea which platform I’m even on any more. It doesn’t matter. They’re all the same. All designed to steal my attention and my time. 

It’s easy to blame social media for our present day state of constant distraction. But my own struggle to pay attention to important stuff, pre-dates Facebook by several decades.

I was a distracted child—a daydreamer—frequently chastised for staring out the window. When I should have been conjugating French verbs, I was pondering on what “conjugating” actually meant and was it anything to do with “conjuring”—and if so, if it was magic of some kind—not literal magic but the kind of trick that looks impossible from the outside but is really easy when you know how to do it—because I didn’t understand what the word meant never mind how to do it—and how did my classmates all seem to get this stuff—had they been given a handbook on day one that outlined all the baseline information I seemed to have missed—like the rules of hockey, the words to The Lord’s Prayer and what day the Top Ten was released?

Social media isn’t the root cause of my distraction, it’s just a handy outlet for those wandering thoughts—one I give in to too easily. I give my attention away to the nearest bidder.

And that’s the point. That’s the field gate where I need to start from. From the state of distraction and lack of attention. Because my memory isn’t half as bad as I think it is. What’s poor is my attention span.

And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Attention and the role it plays in the creation of memory. 

So now we know where our entrance is—we can get munching. 

How memories are formed

—the biology and neurology bit

Before we begin work on unearthing your memories, let’s take a moment to understand how memories are formed. You don’t need to remember this, but if you’re anything like me, understanding the why behind the process will help the exercise to come make more sense. 

The creation of a memory involves several different processes and regions of the brain working together. When we experience something new, sensory information from that experience is processed first by the sensory organs—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, etc. This is then integrated with contextual information such as your location and the emotional significance of the experience. A cohesive memory is encoded in your brain when associations are formed between all these elements. The more associations you make, the more connections you create, the stronger the memory will be.

Think of it like the roots of a tree. A single shallow root is enough to support a seedling, but when that seedling starts to grow it needs stronger foundations—it needs greater stability. In time, many seedlings are weeded out—by too much or too little warmth and light, too much or too little water, or by squirrels. To survive that early, fragile stage, our seedling needs to grow a network of roots that spread deep and wide, intertwining and connecting with other root systems. When it does, those roots connect the tree solidly to the ground. When the winds blow and the waters rise, the tree stands firm.

Once your new memory has been encoded, it undergoes a period of consolidation, when it’s strengthened and integrated with existing knowledge and memories. This process can take anything from several hours to several days and is influenced by factors such as your sleep, stress levels and your emotional state.

Emotionally charged moments are more likely to make it into your long term memory bank. These are the memories you’re more likely to “rehearse” through repetition and greater attention to detail. Every repetition sprouts new roots that secure that memory. 

This repetition is particularly important. Every time you recall a memory, you re-write it. Even recalling and examining a memory is thought to re-write it in a process called “retrieval-induced forgetting”.

This is fascinating—and it’s something we’ll come back to another time—but I’m trying desperately not to get distracted by shiny ideas and keep on the current topic—paying attention. Focus, Miranda!

A “poor memory” isn’t a failure. It’s not a failure of your ability to recall or retain information—it’s simply the result of a lack of attention. Attention to what matters to you now and to what you want to recall in the future.

So let’s exercise those attention muscles. And those leg muscles. Let’s take a walk.

Take a walk—a sensory walk

Before we begin—a quick note about accessibility. If a “real” walk out of doors isn’t an option for you for any reason, pop to the bottom of this article for a couple of alternative ideas. Then come back here to read the rest of the article or listen to the audio.

This sensory walk is intended to get you into the habit of paying attention. It involves being fully present in the moment while also being open to the memories that arise in response to what you experience during your walk.

You’re not actively seeking out memories, just giving them space to emerge, noticing them when they do, and giving them time to settle. The main intent is to exercise your attention muscles in the here and now, and to notice how what’s happening right now opens the doors to the past. 

This may sound a little contradictory. Is the intention for you to pay attention to the here and now? Or to pay attention to memories that emerge and wander into the past? It’s a bit of both. 

Think of it like a meditation—or a mental cow path. Your main focus is on what is in front of you and, when a memory arises you allow it to bubble up but don’t get too attached to it in the moment. Notice it. Acknowledge it. Then let it go, knowing that when your walk ends, the most important of these memories will be available to you.

• See where your feet and your memory take you. 

• Be open to what emerges and accept it without judgement or self-criticism. 

• Acknowledge any thoughts and feelings that arise, but don’t dwell on them or try to change them. Instead, simply observe them and let them pass, then bring your attention back to what’s happening right now. 

Active mindfulness 

I sometimes struggle with mindfulness and meditation exercises—precisely because I’m so easily distracted. My hands and feet need something to do. I find walking an excellent way to get into a state of active mindfulness because it involves the intentional and conscious movement of my body, while also requiring focused attention on the present moment. 

As you walk, pay attention to the physical sensations and the movement of your body. Your feet making contact with the ground. The movement of your arms. The rhythm of your breath. Pay attention to the sensory cues in your environment. The sights, sounds, and smells around you. 

By actively focusing your attention on these sensations, you’ll become more engaged with your experience and cultivate a deeper sense of awareness of the present moment. This helps to quiet the chattering mind and set aside the distractions and worries of daily life for a while. 

Choosing a location 

You can take your sensory walk around the area where you live now, around an old neighbourhood, or somewhere completely unfamiliar. You can find a quiet location in nature, walk along city streets, or through a suburban shopping space. The sensations and memories that emerge may be very different in different spaces.

It does’t matter too much where you start. Don’t waste too much time trying to find the perfect place. Just choose somewhere easy to access and start walking. If you find yourself dithering, just step out of your front door and go. 

Listening to the audio

If you want to listen to the audio for this article while you’re walking, do. When the audio’s finished, take off your headphones to continue your walk and listen to the sounds of the world around you. 

Ditch the podcasts and social media. Forget about counting steps. Leave your journal at home. If you’re using your phone to listen to the audio, put it in airplane mode and eliminate distractions.

Let’s Walk …

Begin your walk slowly, taking in your surroundings. Use all of your senses to absorb the sights, sounds, smells, and textures around you. Start with broad impressions and primary input. What’re the first things you see, smell and hear?

Engage your senses 

Spend a few minutes focussing on each of your five senses as you walk. Focus on noticing small moments of surprise and finding joy in the unremarkable. 

• Pay attention to how the scent of your walk changes as you travel through different spaces. How does a suburban area smell differently to the city, or to being out in nature? What smells are particular to this time of year? 

• When a scent catches you, don’t rush on. Take a moment to take it in. What does it remind you of? Where does it take you? 

• Pay attention to the taste of the air. Does it taste cold on your tongue? Is it humid and flavoured by spring flowers and barbecues? 

• Pay attention to the sounds of your walk — birds, traffic, voices. Listen to the wind in the leaves, the rumble of traffic, or the sounds of the birds. What’s familiar? What’s unusual?

• Pay attention to the feel of your winter scarf or of warm summer sun on your skin. Reach out and touch the texture of a tree or a stone wall as you pass. 

• Pay attention to the sight of things that you’ve long stopped noticing because they’re so familiar. What’s new? What’s been the same way for as long as you can remember?

Look deeper

Seek out the details. Pay attention to the colours of the leaves but look too for patterns in those colours. 

When you listen to the calls of birds, try to distinguish one voice from another. How many birds can you hear? How many different calls? 

When you eavesdrop on passing conversations, listen to the content of what’s being said. Try to decipher the mood—the emotion—behind each voice. Does the speaker’s voice match their expression?

If this is a familiar space, one you walk through every day, pay particular attention to what may be new. What’s changed since you last walked this way? 

Also, look out for what’s very much and always the same. What’ve you stopped noticing because it’s so familiar?

As you engage your senses, allow any thoughts and memories that want to bubble up to do so. 

Tempting as it may be to jot things down in a notebook or voice app while you’re walking, try to resist that urge.

I know the urge to record a memory as soon as it appears is a powerful one. The fear of losing it again is powerful too. But there are two reasons why I want you to wait. 

First, I want you to stay in this state of active mindfulness. I need you to stay with the memory and to explore where it takes you before you commit a version of it to paper. 

Second, and most importantly, I want you to learn to trust your own memory. To know that what’s important will be available to you when the time is right. 

Instead, practice simply acknowledging the memory.

• Acknowledge its existence. 

• Acknowledge how it feels. 

• Feel how it feels. 

• Gently find the edge of the memory and draw it out to see what else may be attached. 

• Consider why it may have been hidden. 

• And why it’s chosen this moment to make itself known to you again.  

When a memory is prompted by something in the present moment, welcome it gently. Don’t force it. Take time to find its edges and draw it out of the shadows and into the light.

• Which of your senses prompted the memory? Take a moment to fully absorb the cue itself. What is it? Can you name it—out loud or in your own head? 

• Give it space in your brain and time to settle in. 

• Consider how each sensory cue helped prompt your memories and what emotions each one evoked. 

• Hold the memory in your mind. Try to recall specific details, such as additional smells or sounds, or people associated with the memory. 

If the gates to your memory remain firmly shut, don’t try to force anything. 

The purpose of this exercise is simply to learn to pay attention. Paying attention to what is right in front of you, to what you can hear and see and touch and smell—considering the emotions attached to each of these, is a first step to valuing your own experience. Which is also a first step to remembering your experience. 

Simply allow the possibility that the memories are there somewhere. 

They will come. 

Give them time. 

If you feel the pull to check your phone for notifications, or take a quick peep at Instagram, notice the instinct, set it to one side, and consider this question. 

• What prompted you to seek distraction from the moment you’re in? 

• What thought or memory popped up that you wanted to avoid? 

Keep walking for as long as you feel you need. Keep walking for as long as your attention —and legs—will allow. 

When you’re ready, bring your walk to a close. Take a moment to reflect on what you’ve experienced and any changes you noticed in your ability to pay attention to the present, and how this has helped you find a way into the past. 

• How might you use these sensory cues in your everyday? 

• How might they help you be more mindful, more present? 

• How can you use these cues to help you bring greater attention to the present and to remember what’s important? 

Once you’re home again, give yourself some quiet thinking time to reflect on your walk and any memories that emerged. Take a moment to record any stand-out moments or memories. Start with the very basics. The who, what, why, where and when.

Once you have this down, answer these questions: 

• What’s stayed with you now that you’re home  ? 

• What would you like to remember in the future? 

• Which of your senses caught you most powerfully? 

• What memories emerged from what senses? 

• What pulled you to another time and place? 

• If, at any point during your walk, you felt the pull to check your phone or distract yourself in another way, what prompted that instinct? What thought or memory popped up that you wanted to avoid? And what was your default method of distraction? 

A non-physical alternative

If you struggle with mobility or energy levels, a walk out of doors may not be possible for you. If this is the case, you can adapt this exercise in a couple of ways.

1. Explore indoors: If getting outside is difficult, try this activity in your home or even in single room. Explore different textures, sounds, and scents within your home. Look afresh at your everyday surroundings. If you're using this option, make sure to switch off any technology that's likely to distract you. Take the phone off the hook, unplug the doorbell. Make sure you won't be disturbed. 

2. Outdoor, seated mindfulness: If you can get outdoors but your mobility is limited, find somewhere outside where you can sit quietly without being interrupted. Instead of physically moving, explore sensory experiences from a fixed location. Focus on your breath, body sensations, and surroundings from where you're sitting.

I’d love to know how you get on with this exercise. If you prefer not to share the details of the memories that emerged, tell me about the experience instead.

• Do you struggle with paying attention to your day to day? 

• Do you think this affects how and what you remember? 

Share your experience here in the comments, or, if you’re a Root Stories subscriber, pop into the Subscriber Chat where I’ll post a thread for us all to share our stories.