Struggling To Focus? So Did Medieval Monks

When Distraction Unites Us

Distraction, as most of us can attest, is a global pandemic. With the rapid digitization of terrains that were earlier outside the radar of technology giants, attention deficits cut across demographics: age, gender, class, nationality, race, and caste. It’s perhaps the only condition that ironically unifies, regardless of which political ideology or party you support.

With each new form of technical wizardry – like the AI-fueled ChatGPT – we’re being seduced by gadgets, submitting our cognition to sounds and scapes designed to divert. In ADHD Nation (2016), the author Alan Schwarz points out that each year, millions of American kids are diagnosed with an attention condition, and prescribed pills to handle school pressures. Moreover, we fight losing battles with clever social media companies, whose billions plant exactly those messages that tug us away from tiresome accounting tasks, incomplete novels, or unwashed dishes. 

But the punitive effects of distraction do not end with not getting stuff done. As Jamie Kreiner, author of The Wandering Mind observes, persistent, chronic distraction has other rub-offs: boredom, sleep deprivation, poor performance at work, car crashes, failing grades, and weak social relationships, to name only a few.

As moderns who prioritize happiness, we ought to be cognizant that perennial mind-hops lead to a lowered sense of personal well-being. As with all contemporary problems, it’s often salutary to turn to the past, to relatively more attentive ages, or at least to tribes of humans, who tried to nailed this particular affliction.

Digging Into Medieval Monks

Kreiner, currently a Professor of History at the University of Georgia, decided to dig into the practices of medieval Europe. Not just into the habits of ordinary medievals, but into medieval monks, who were possibly trying to build their attention like an Olympic sport. As Jamie puts it, “Monks saw themselves as athletes and warriors. This was an endurance sport. This was war.”

For these monks, who lived between 300 and 900 A.D., achieving a transcendental focus was a primal goal. After all, they intended to slay the limitations of space and time by linking their attentions to supernatural forces.

The aim of her book is not to daunt us with the absorption of such masters. But rather to dwell on the failures of the majority, who lived in an age sans TV, Twitter, YouTube, or Netflix. As she suggests, if distraction is not modern, neither is our anxiety about it.

Distraction Was Ancient

Apparently, if you asked the monks themselves, most were frustrated by their endeavours. In their self-reporting about their internal states, they were, in fact, “constantly distracted.” This, despite being intensely devoted to the makings of inattention. Such documents and reports, Kreiner writes, should make us feel better about our contemporary wrangles with our inner selves. Studying the ancients also confirms that distractions were produced by life itself. Not just by technology.

Torturous Routes to Achieve Focus

Medieval monks were distracted by similar, mundane tugs like we are:

• Other people
• Everyday life
• Information overload

But you mustn’t assume that they were using practices we can relate with. Some submitted to what we might shrug off as absurdly penitent forms of physical deprivation. The following are some Instances of their torturous feats:

• Hor lived in a church for 20 years without ever lifting his eyes to the roof.
• Sarah dwelt by a river for 60 years without ever glancing at the flowing waters.
• Martin shared a cave with a snake for three years without being terrorized by the reptile.
• Caluppa lived in a cave where snakes fell on him, but he did not permit himself to be shaken in the least.

Treat Distractions Like Clutter

Distractions were also described using various metaphors. As snakeskins to be sloughed off, as flies to be swatted away, as odors that clung to a dog at a meat market. Abba Poeman, a teacher of Scentis says that “the chief of all wickednesses is the wandering of the thoughts.” He used various analogies to describe their control. You could organize them like clothes in a closet. Or you could bottle certain thoughts. Or keep good thoughts alive by stoking them like a fire over coals.

Practice Unflappability

Stoics also noticed that distractions could take the form of surprises: a medical diagnosis, a job loss, a friend’s death. Such encounters were called “appearances”. Having relegated them to the realm of the superficial or illusory, the purpose of human life was to remain non-judgmental in the face of such “appearances.”

“And they argued that the best sort of reaction to things that were not all that valuable was essentially nonreactive: you should choose not to form any sort of judgment or evaluation at all, because it would free you from feeling emotions that were pegged to a particular outcome.”

Avoid Nosiness

The philosopher Plutarch wrote a short piece titled, “On Nosiness”, as part of a larger collection called Moralia. Plutarch said nosiness and gossip were unproductive and inappropriate. Even nosiness, after all, can become addictive. After a point, your curiosity about pointless things will stop you from attending to critical to-dos in your own life or work.

Fight Inner Demons

Many Christian monks believed that distraction originated from a deeper place. It wasn’t just external circumstances, but something internal that prevented focus. “Failures to concentrate were a repeated reminder of a person’s distance from the divine.” Other monks attributed distraction to the “will” – which might be akin to the ego in most religions and spiritual traditions.

Besides cutting out stimuli or resolving to focus more, rooting out distractions involved internal practices. Interruptions were thought to be planted by demons, who were particularly clever in forging the kind of intrusive thoughts that would keep you hooked. “Something as seemingly innocuous as the urge to take a nap might be a demon’s doing.”

Distractions Can Take Any Form

Books, too, could be a source of distraction. It wasn’t just what you read, but how you read texts. Monks were encouraged to read immersively, engaging with the text and scribbling notes in the margins. Despite their spiritual pursuits, monks were still human and carried impulses that many can relate with. On the margins of a book, one monk wrote “latherit,” an old Irish word for a “massive hangover.”

The wealthy were urged to dress simply, but they were also warned not to become too conceited about their shabby clothes. In other words, humble bragging wasn’t encouraged.

Disentangle Yourself

Today, to fight distraction, we might unplug. Get off social media, or abandon devices as we retreat into cabins in the wood. The monks too unplugged, but in a deeper and more enduring manner. Rather than abandoning just a slice of the world, they abandoned the world itself.

Such abandonment was often provoked by dramatic life events. Paul, for example, discovered his wife in bed with another man, while Apollo, a shepherd, was consumed by guilt after murdering a pregnant woman.

Abandonment Was Always Hard

Even for monks, abandoning the world was not easy. After all, family ties had to be snipped off. Mar Yawnan pretended to pursue a medical career that his parents wanted him to, till he was sent on a medical botany field trip, at which point he fled. Another man, Wandregisel got married and then urged his wife to become a monk with him. Fortunately, she seemed equally ecstatic about choosing this path.

Then there were the financial aspects. Even if they had relinquished all their ‘stuff’, they still needed food and shelter while leading ascetic lives. Poorer women often found this harder, so they roomed with male ascetics. Sometimes ‘slaves’ or servants accompanied masters on their monastic journeys. Though now the earlier hierarchies had been dissolved. Sometimes entire families or friends’ groups became monks together.

Variegated Ways Among Monks

For some monks, embracing an ascetic lifestyle didn’t necessarily mean snapping all ties with the world. Some still corresponded with loved ones, conducted business, or received visitors. Renunciation and conversion were not one-time acts, but ongoing processes, requiring constant effort. Even after making the momentous decision to abandon everything, monks had to continually disengage from possessions, social ties, and daily dramas that had held them in thrall.

To break free from possessiveness, monks were instructed not to lock their cupboards or hoard items under mattresses. They were urged to expel thoughts of friends and family and relinquish social ties. They were prohibited from attending festive occasions or ceremonies. Traveling – or even talking about journeys – was forbidden.

References

Jamie Kreiner, The Wandering Mind: What Medieval Monks Tell Us About Distraction, Liveright Publishing Corporation, W.W. Norton, 2023

Alan Schwarz, ADHD Nation, Scribner, 2015