My Attention Belongs to Me

Sometimes nothing is happening in front of me, but inside, I am somewhere else.

I am replaying a conversation. Trying to understand someone. Revisiting something that hurt. Imagining what I should have said, what they meant, or what might happen next.

And then I remember:

My attention belongs to me.

That does not mean I have to pretend something did not matter. It does not mean I have to excuse what hurt me or never think about it again.

It simply means I do not have to keep living inside it.

I can care about what happened without giving it my whole inner world. I can let a thought come through without following it all the way back into an old feeling.

I can return to the life that is actually here: my home, my body, the people I love, the work in front of me, God, the small beauty of this day.

Usually, returning is very simple.

It is noticing that I have been mentally somewhere else and gently coming back.

Back to the cup of coffee in my hands.
Back to the person sitting across from me.
Back to the next loving thing I can do.

Maybe that is the practice.

Not making sure difficult thoughts never come, but remembering that I can choose where I return.

A question to sit with:
What has been taking up space in my inner world lately and where would I rather place my attention?

God, help me return to the life in front of me. Teach me to place my attention where love, truth, and life can grow.