The technology of interruption
We are used to being interrupted. A message arrives while we are working. An email appears while we are reading. A notification asks us to look at something just as we have settled into a conversation, a task or a quiet moment. Sometimes the interruption is welcome. A message from someone we love can be a lovely thing to receive. A reminder can save us from forgetting something important. Technology allows us to be reached when we need to be reached, and that can make everyday life easier.
When interruptions can happen almost anywhere and at any time, I find myself wondering what happens when we begin to expect them.
A life of interruptions
Our phones have changed what it means to be reachable. We can be contacted wherever we are, and many of us carry the means to respond within reach throughout the day. The result isn't necessarily that every interruption takes a long time. Sometimes it takes only a few seconds to glance at a screen. But the interruption itself creates a moment in which our attention has to decide whether to stay where it is or go somewhere else.
We might be writing an email and notice a message. We might be talking to someone and see a notification. We might be reading a book when we suddenly remember something because an unrelated thought has been prompted by something we have seen.
Our attention can drift long after the interruption itself has passed.
When interruption becomes ordinary
There was a time when an interruption was something that happened to us. Someone knocked on the door. The telephone rang. Someone called our name. Now interruption can be built into the things we use every day. Apps can notify us, devices can remind us, calendars can alert us and messages can arrive at any moment.
None of this is necessarily a problem. In fact, much of it is useful. But perhaps something changes when interruptions become so ordinary that we stop noticing them as interruptions at all. We simply look.
The space between
I am interested in the small space between being interrupted and responding. It may be only a moment, but it gives us something important: the chance to notice what has happened to our attention.
Something has arrived. I want to look. My attention has drifted.
We might look. We might decide it can wait. We might return to what we were doing. Sometimes the interruption will matter, and sometimes it won't. The point isn't to respond perfectly. It is simply to notice that a response is taking place.
Returning after the interruption
Perhaps the impact of interruption isn't only in the moment we look. It can also be in what happens afterwards.
We may return to the task we were doing, but our mind is still thinking about the message. We may go back to a conversation but find ourselves wondering about something we have just seen. We may sit down to read again and realise that our attention has not quite returned with us.
This is where I think kindness matters.
Rather than being frustrated with ourselves for losing our place, we can simply notice that our attention has drifted. We can pause, take a moment and gently return to whatever is in front of us. Our days will always contain interruptions. Some will be necessary, some welcome and some barely worth noticing. Perhaps caring for our attention isn't about eliminating them, but becoming a little more aware of what happens when they arrive.
I wonder what you might notice the next time something interrupts you.