There’s nothing like the feeling before a summer storm rolls through. The temperature drops from the high 90s to cool 70s. It’s nearly imperceptible at first, but there’s a charge in the air that builds as the damp heaviness of oppressive summer heat gives way to the unrestricted movement of cool wind through trees. What starts as a whisper becomes a roar.

If you find a safe place to sit while the storm is kicking up, you may feel overwhelmed. It’s like when a car crests the hill, descends too quickly, and your guts jump. For me, nothing quite captures the exhilaration of a coming storm and the petrichor of the damp ground when the rain first falls. It may be my favorite combination of feelings and sensations on earth.

This experience is brought to you by attention

Do you have a favorite phenomenon like that? Maybe it’s the feeling of the warm sun on your back. It might be the clicking passage of your consciousness into pratyahara (withdrawal from the senses) as you rest in savasana. Take a moment to imagine that space of wonder and that set of feelings.

When I chat with Rex about yoga, we often discuss the importance of noticing the subtleties of the practice. By becoming attuned to the physical, mental, and emotional components of each segment of practice, you can find ways to care for yourself and dive deeply into the work of traversing this eight-limbed path. With your attention, you can keep yourself safer than any alignment instruction. You can water the seeds of happiness and comfort, and you can track pain back to its roots. The title for this post was chosen with great intention. Your attention is your superpower.

The deafening silence

I’ve spoken about it many times, but I am constantly reminded of the commodification of attention. Last week, we lost power at my home. It’s common here, but every time it happens, I’m amazed by how quiet everything is. At first, I thought the quiet was because the fans and appliances were no longer running, but I soon recognized that it was a deeper quiet. The gaggle of posts, opinions, videos, and ads could not reach me. The language of fear, lack, and outrage that compels us to click fell silent.

Dedicating time to mindfulness doesn’t make us immune to the din. We tell people not to text and drive. We encourage them to look both ways when crossing the street instead of staring at their phones. We (hopefully) obey these measures because of their immediate safety implications, but what about the rest of the time?

In the past, we’ve talked about taking a mini-retreat from technology, and I still advocate for and participate in this practice regularly.

A recent literature review concluded that “...the extent to which the use of social media impacts the public is yet to be determined.” This paper cited evidence of both positive and negative impacts of social media. Even if we put aside social media, the impact of frequent interruptions can't be ignored.

Our attention is a superpower that we must protect.

"Turn on, tune in, drop out…" redefined

Your yoga practice is the ideal place to cultivate attention. I know when Timothy Leary told everyone to “Turn on, tune in, drop out,” he was referring to using psychedelics. While psychedelics are not for me, his words are. We can do all those things with our yoga.

We can turn on by getting in touch with the subtleties of our being as we move through various levels of consciousness in practice. Our yoga practice even gives us a rough diagram for this process. The koshas are like interpenetrating layers of consciousness that we can access. Maybe I need to do a whole thing about koshas…

We can tune in when we become aware of how we are connected to everything around us. We do this by becoming aware of our world… by paying attention. What we do, say, and consume is not separate from other things. We need this understanding of non-separateness to practice the first two limbs of the yogic path (yama and niyama). We can't embody non-violence, for example, if we aren't aware of how we affect others and how others affect us.

It may seem fairly obvious, but as we progress on the path, tuning in becomes even more vital. There can be no samadhi (last of the limbs of yoga; union of the self with the ultimate reality of all things) without developing awareness.

The "dropping out" part is where we can set the stage for all of these limbs to unfold. I don’t see dropping out as withdrawing from society. Instead, I think it’s about noticing the heart of things and deciding when those things are and aren't conducive to getting everyone liberated from the noise.

I once had an epiphany where I realized that half of the yoga I was seeing in popular culture was about expensive outfits. I dropped out of buying such things. Dropping out is really opting out of the static. It’s about trusting yourself enough to not need to buy that thing or look like anyone else to have a meaningful lived experience.

Bring attention to your practice

The next time you hop on your mat, notice the connection between your body and the ground. Observe how you balance yourself at the point at which your soles touch the earth. Experience the quality of the air in your space.

When you move, don’t just think about the destination. Anybody could phone in a practice by doing the shapes. We want to go for something a little less generic. Can you feel a posture build? Can you layer in your breath and use it to inform the subtlest of adjustments? How’s your mind? If it’s not there, can you bring it back in the most loving and compassionate way?

I wish you moments of quiet and focus throughout your week. May you notice some wonder you haven’t had the chance to see before.