Distraction, Acedia and the Ancient Practice of Watchfulness

Distraction dilutes the soul and
dulls the spirit

Distraction has always been a strategic target of Christian spirituality. Early Christian writings identify the hummingbird-like darting of attention as a major impediment to spiritual health. (1)

Distraction, along with its kin—obsession and compulsion—scrambles for refuge under the umbrella of acedia, that subtle lethargy which saps energy even from once-joyful practices.

My iPad shows 45 minutes remaining in the chapter. I am 37% through the much-recommended book. I close the screen. The list of books on my iPad that are one-quarter finished continues to grow. The topics used to attract me—and still do, sort of. Not the authors’ fault; I lose interest and move on to something else. This restlessness is a familiar pattern.

No focus. Unable to settle. The cycle repeats itself in both reading and daily life.

My brother suffers from a serious form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Part of the common wisdom about OCD is that it grows out of an effort to deal with fear. Order things, even life, in a certain way, and the chances of catastrophe diminish. I’m not sure it is that simple, but it certainly provides a clue to the larger mystery. He phones twice a day at exactly the same time, and his VHS/DVD collection rivals a rental store. Over the years, I have come to appreciate the complexity of the disorder and how it can restrict everyday life.

One of the Desert Fathers – source now forgotten – wondered about the relationship between distraction and obsession.  Are some obsessions an attempt to deal with an ongoing parade of distractions? Obsessions can provide structure to a life under attack from the unrelenting onslaught of “Oh, what’s that?!” or the dullness of boredom. Repeat obsessions long enough, and they become compulsions.

What a dance! I am not sophisticated enough to chart the precise movements, but I know the early monks, like Evagrius, were aware of them. Tricky. At what point do amusements like Pokémon Go, Pickleball, watching sports, or a streaming service cross the line and become a fender bender of the soul?

Acedia and distraction gradually infiltrate our inner fortress. There is no grenade-like explosion of purpose and direction, but rather, step by step, the distraction component of acedia neutralizes the gifts and opportunities that allow a person or community to thrive. This slow erosion can go unnoticed until much has been lost.

Signs vary. In the medieval world, indicators might include a row in the field left untilled, a shift in the kitchen left unmade, a place in the chapel left unoccupied, a desk in the scriptorium left unoccupied, a page in the manuscript left unilluminated, or a word left unspoken. Now, signals might include an unanswered vibrating phone, a missed call from a friend, unsent emails, a practice left unchallenged, chores undone, and walks not taken, all of which compound the deterioration of the soul.

These small absences quietly accumulate, unravelling the tapestry of daily life—not dramatically, but through slow fraying. The shift is imperceptible, the effect undeniable.

Our society launches an incredible array of distractions. According to recent studies, the average smartphone user receives between 40 and 80 notifications a day. Each ping pulls attention away from what matters most. Picture a student: notebook open, earbuds in. Every few moments, focus splinters into a buzz, a chime, or a group chat. The afternoon fragments, leading to half-finished thoughts and work. The cost is not just lost minutes, but erosion of deeper attention and rest. Little wonder a cottage industry is emerging to confront digital distraction.

Too often, I play the “if only” game. If only I could win the lottery? After we gave 40% to the children/grandchildren, then …” Just think if we were in Italy now, the leather shops, the paper, the pasta. Every meal a romantic occasion! Each fantasy seduces attention and sucks up time. Vivid daydreams. Remember that place, the Rabbit Rabbit Bistro, we went for breakfast in Arezzo, beautiful, elegant, sacramental. And that leather factory just south of Cortona, I could have spent the entire day there. I only bought two things! Perhaps I’ll take just a few moments now to check their website! How about if we head back to Venice and take in the early Sunday morning service at St. Mark’s, a smorgasbord of sights and smells.

If the first milestone on the path through acedia is to acknowledge the reality, the second is to remain present rather than fleeing. Presence is the antidote to technological and imagined distractions.

A simple experiment: close your eyes and take a slow, deep breath. Count to ten as you inhale and exhale. Notice where your attention goes. Notice any urge to click away or distract yourself. Then, return. This small act of pausing models the discipline of presence.

John Cassian (c. 360–435 CE) was a pivotal figure in bringing the Desert Fathers’ spirituality into Western monasticism. The Desert Fathers often spoke of watchfulness—the discipline of noticing thoughts as they arise before they take root in the heart. The Greek word they used was nepsis, a kind of alertness of the soul.

Nepsis involves attentive awareness of one’s thoughts, desires, and impulses, especially as they arise spontaneously in the heart and mind. It is closely related to what modern psychology calls metacognition—awareness of one’s own thought processes—but oriented toward spiritual growth. As such, it functions as a spiritual warning system. Are my thoughts drifting in this direction because I am bored, angry, sensing injustice, but feeling powerless? Similar to practices like Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, nepsis involves observing thoughts without being dominated by them.

In subsequent posts, we will consider practices for a rule of life. In a quick flyover, I notice the practices other pilgrims use to stay present. Three have a five-star rating.

Journaling appears on most lists. Writing by hand clears the mind for many, myself included. Some people do not know what they are thinking until they hear themselves talking. I do not know until I write it out, longhand, preferably with a fountain pen. By the way, how long has it been since I’ve cleaned those pens anyway? They probably need refilling; it only takes a moment.

Other wayfarers walk. Acedia disconnects the body from meaning. Walking restores embodied hope without pressure. The mantra: Move the body, unlock the soul.

Others combine writing and/or walking with a practice of gratitude. Acedia taints the spirit with the feeling that nothing is of value, making cynicism feel like the only reasonable response. Yet, one small moment can crack the illusion: the simple warmth of a mug of coffee on a cold morning, a note of birdsong, an unexpected text from a friend, the scent of fresh baking — quiet rebellion against “what’s the point?” Gratitude journaling aims at naming three things a day that paint an exception to the flat greyness of acedia.

Stay on the path, one small act of resistance at a time.

A one-sentence prayer: “Return my heart to what matters.”

1. The apostolic writings, the Didache, Hermas, Evagrius, Benedict, the Desert Fathers, Cassian, the Benedictine Rule, the Liturgy of the Hours, and modern Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT)

Note: This article was written by the author with research assistance from ChatGPT