Fluttering attention

One of our favourite places is the Niagara Parks Butterfly Conservatory. It’s close to home and fairly accessible for wheelchairs. We love the outdoor gardens and the indoor greenhouse with all its greenery and colourful butterflies. It’s a great inspiration for our own home garden.

Need to pause

We have a routine: roll the wheels forward a few times along the stone path, and then stop and sit. Roll a bit further, sit and wait. We know that the longer we sit, the more we will see – and quite possibly a butterfly may even land on us. 

People-watching is an added bonus – and we see all kinds. On any visit, we observe large group tours with matching day pass lanyards, busy families with excited kids and nervous individuals who are easily startled by the colourful creatures flitting about. We’ve also been amused to see tourists from warmer climates wearing snow pants November through March in the conservatory’s consistent, 27 degrees Celsius, tropical climate. 

Pay attention

On a recent visit, as we were sitting at our second stop, I noticed a young child, probably about 3 years of age. He ran past us in his rain boots, carrying a butterfly by the wings. He was likely looking for his parents, excited to show his “catch.” Unfortunately for him (but fortunately for the butterfly), a Niagara Parks staff person stopped him in his tracks and rescued the butterfly. She spoke kindly but firmly to the young one. “Pay attention with your eyes, not your hands,” she said. I have no idea if the child retained anything the staff person said to him by the time he found his parents, but her words made me think about the concept of attention. 

In his most recent book, The Sirens’ Call: How Attention Became the World’s Most Endangered Resource, author Chris Hayes describes the concept of attention economy and how our attention is at risk. Whether we are fully aware of it or not, our attention is being pulled in multiple directions. Companies and organizations can now customize their bid for attention through what is being promoted and shared via social media. Yet is all their work just catching our attention or actually holding our attention? Videos, photos and links fly through the Internet like colourful bits of information. The amount of information, whether meaningful or meaningless, is mind-boggling. 

The cost of storytelling

Telling a story can help create empathy and awareness, and, in the context of disability, hopefully motivates change. I wonder about the power of storytelling in an age when attention is commodified. Do stories still have space to unfold in meaningful ways, or do they have to compete in a culture that rewards brevity over depth? Any sort of sustained engagement with attention requires intention, patience and time. Without that commitment to stop and sit for a bit, even the most powerful stories risk being reduced to fleeting moments.