Mindlessness v mindfulness

I have tried to watch Apocalypse Now three times this week. I’ve never seen it and apocalypse does feel very now so why not use all this time – so much time! – to get through all the films and books I promised myself if life allowed? Except life is very much allowing it and my brain is very much not.

The zapping of our concentration and attention spans may seem anecdotal, but there is substantial neuroscience to explain it. Living through a pandemic plugged with sadness, fear and uncertainty is a mind soup designed to tip us off balance. Rationally, I know this. Studies have shown time and again that the impact of stress on the brain robs it of its ability to process information, retain it and focus. Be it big-picture worries or everyday life adjustments, stress accumulates.

My attention span is shot at the best of times. Getting frustrated because I can’t find comfort in fiction is wildly wasted energy and yet it didn’t stop me from spending a whole day taking all my books off the shelves and re-ordering them, hoping I’d trick myself into reading again. (I edited them into “themes”. Honestly, how did I resist?)

Katie Ann McLaughlin, a clinical psychologist and Harvard professor, smiled when I told her about my unrelaxing methods to try to relax. The only way to regain focus, she said, is to actually relax: breathing exercises and mindfulness are mentioned as scientifically proved ways to buffer stress. Doing good for others also ranks high.

“We have a limited capacity system; we don’t have enormous bandwidth to cope with all the channels competing for attentional resources,” she told me. “Stress saps you. An increase in stress can age your working memory by a decade.” Terrifying, but not necessarily permanent. McLaughlin described what plenty of us are going through as ego depletion – ego in the psychological, not everyday sense – where the resources needed for willpower and self-control to concentrate on anything but, say, all nine seasons of the US version of The Office, are severely limited. Her key tips to mitigate it? Download a mindfulness app, commit to breathing exercises and give others emotional support.





Fasting and feasting alone

‘Ramadan is best done communally’: an iftar in Long Beach, New Jersey. Photograph: Amr Alfiky/Reuters

It’s an irony not lost on me that Ramadan, done properly, advocates all of McLaughlin’s advice. We’re three fasts into the month and I have zero excuse not to keep every single one this year. I don’t have to be anywhere but home. At the moment, it feels like the most isolating experience to endure in isolation. Ramadan is best done communally, surrounded by family, attending and hosting iftars – the meal to break the fast – together. This whole period is supposed to be meditative, about slowing down, being kinder and reconnecting to some sense of peace.

Arguably, lockdown conditions are ideal. No distractions, no office to be in, no fun to be missing out on. I haven’t got to the point where it becomes easier and legitimately feels good. That comes, godspeed, maybe next week? For now, I’m content to just enjoy all the corny memes, the aunty Whatsapp forwards and the sweet energy of #RamadanTogether online.





Showering with Ansel

Ansel Elgort: cleaning up for charity. Photograph: REX/Shutterstock

Because celebrities are desperate for attention and civilians are bored out of their brains, the thirst trap – posting an unapologetically hot photo of oneself on social media – seems to have peaked. In a charitable twist, actor Ansel Elgort raised more than $200,000 for a Brooklyn Covid-19 fundraiser with a shot of him in the shower. Pose nude, do good, mission completed.

•Nosheen Iqbal is an Observer columnist