Driving home from work together David and I were reflecting on how accelerated the pace of life feels right now. With separate clients he and I had discussed how every scroll, news alert, new AI breakthrough, adds to the feeling that the ground beneath us is a conveyor, rumbling along toward an unwanted outcome. And yet—despite all the rapid fire change—there are slower rhythms available to us.
Rhythms of love. Rhythms of embodiment. Rhythms of conscious optimism.
An artist and thought leader I love named Maria Popova (@mariapopova) wrote recently about a philosopher and neuroscientist named Iain McGilchrist and she shared these words:
“The disposition of our consciousness—what we choose to attend to—literally alters the world we experience. …The Choice we make of how we dispose our consciousness is the ultimate creative act: it renders the world what it is. It is therefore a moral act: it has consequences…Attention changes the world. How you attend to it changes what you find there. What you find then governs the kind of attention you will think it appropriate to pay in the future.”
This quote demanded my consideration. It reminded me that how we place our attention isn’t just a personal choice. It’s an evolutionary one. The way we dispose our consciousness—toward fear or wonder, division or unity, distraction or depth—shapes the entire field we live in.
And this is where love, embodiment, and even technology begin to braid together in unexpected and powerful ways.
Love as a Practice of Deep Attention
Love as a Practice of Deep AttentionWhen we choose to attend deeply—to listen, to stay present, to witness another’s experience with an open heart—we’re practicing love in its most vital and alive form. Love isn’t a passive feeling that arrives on the breeze; it’s a conscious act. A cultivated skill. Focused attention is one of its purest expressions.
In a world of constant distraction, presence becomes revolutionary.
Since my last newsletter, I’ve picked up two books: one I abandoned, and one I’ve been savoring slowly—reading in small doses, intentionally giving my attention to words and ideas that elevate rather than diminish the presence of love in my heart.
Raising Hare, a memoir by Chloe Dalton, transported me to a soulful realm of reverent attention. Isolated from her profession during COVID, Dalton found herself at home in the country, caring for a newborn wild hare. Through this simple but profound act, she writes of love expressed not through ownership or sentimentality, but through care, boundaries, curiosity, stillness, and presence. Her story is a luminous meditation on cultivating understanding as she studies the hare and the needs of the hare and the history of misunderstanding this magical creature. She succeeds by small, conscious acts—a deep connection to nature, to self, and to soul.
In contrast, I also began Freedom by Jonathan Franzen and quickly felt a visceral rejection rising in me. Chapter by chapter, I experienced a growing discomfort—my consciousness resisted the story’s emotional landscape, built on scattered, ego-driven attention. Here, love is taken for granted rather than practiced, and the family at its center drifts into fragmentation, untethered from anything resembling soulful connection. It felt like a portrayal of what happens when depth is abandoned—when attention is diffused and the sacred is forgotten. I put the book aside.
These two reading experiences reminded me, once again, that what we give our attention to shapes our inner world. And that in every moment, we can choose to dispose our consciousness toward what deepens love—or what distorts it.
Embodiment: Staying Human in the Speed of Change
How do we cultivate this loving attention when the world is pulling us out of our bodies, out of the moment?
We come home.
To breath.
To movement.
To food that nourishes.
To the wisdom of our nervous systems.
Embodiment is how we locate ourselves in truth. It’s the antidote to acceleration. It’s how we ride the wave instead of being taken under.
Try this:
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Take three slow, gentle breaths.
Let your attention follow the movement of breath —like a curious puppy.
Allow your attention to curl inward—just like a puppy circling before it finds the perfect spot.
With practice, your attention learns to settle.
At first, just for one breath… then three… then five.
To rest.
To feel safe
In the comfort of the tunnel of softness your settling created.
This is how presence begins.
One breath at a time.
Hope Isn’t Naive: It’s a Practice
In the midst of so much change, I recently experienced inspiration from the podcasts and writing of Kevin Kelly, co-founder of Wired and a joyful techno-philosopher. While many voices are warning of AI apocalypse, Kelly offers a perspective that centers creativity, adaptability, and what’s uniquely human.
One of his quotes from Advice for Living::
“Optimism is not something you inherit; it’s something you choose and create. It’s not a prediction—it’s a choice about how you respond.”
This resonates deeply with McGilchrist’s idea of conscious disposition. Optimism isn’t fluffy. It’s the disciplined, spiritual choice to direct our attention toward growth, meaning, and possibility—no matter how fast the world spins.
Another gem from Kelly’s Advice for Living:
“Don’t be the best. Be the only.”
And isn’t that the point of embodiment and presence? That you—your way of loving, noticing, creating, and being—are unique, valuable and irreplaceable?
There’s a post that’s been echoing in my heart all week, shared by @hey_honeysuckle—a fellow garden lover whose presence brings me joy every single day.
She wrote simply: “May you be a blessing to someone today.”
Those words stirred me. Not just a gentle invitation, but a spiritual directive—one that grounded me in moments when I might have been blind or shut down. This intention focussed my attention. I carried it like a seed in my pocket.
And the most beautiful thing? That intention did attract blessings. It drew in the exact souls who were also seeking something kind, real, healing. You know who you are—and I am so grateful for you because you trusted me with an opportunity to feel needed and shared your vulnerable raw heart.
There’s something extraordinary about the ripple effect of one person’s light. One quiet reminder. One honest offering. When we choose to be a blessing—even in the smallest of ways—we become part of a sacred chain reaction. A garden of soul tending.
Try This Today:
-
- Breath Practice: Three conscious breaths, one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
- Reflection Prompt:
What are you choosing to attend to today?
Where do you want your consciousness to dwell? - Read or Revisit:
- Iain McGilchrist – The Master and His Emissary (or his shorter essays on attention)
- Kevin Kelly – Excellent Advice for Living
- Chloe Dalton – Raising Hare – A Memoir
If this message resonated with you…
If you felt seen, stirred, or simply longing for more inspired and soulful connection in your own life—let’s talk.
I guide people in learning how to connect deeply with themselves through breath, meditation, and embodied presence. Together, we explore what it truly means to stay rooted in your heart—even when you’re surrounded by interference, distraction, or overwhelm.
Want to feel more centered, present, and aligned?
Let’s schedule a free consult. We’ll talk, heart to heart, and see how we fit together on this path of healing and remembering.
The world is moving fast. Let’s move deeply.
With breath and vision,
Lisa
Founder, Visionary Healing Center