While driving to an appointment I was listening to an interesting podcast.
It seems to be the most natural thing to do.
Once one has become a somewhat experienced driver it could seem as if listening to something is not taxing. Taken from a different perspective it might even be helpful as one may have come to experience driving as something that has become boring. Listening to a podcast may thus appear to be a good way to avoid getting lost in some daydreaming.
As a human one is genetically prepared to react to danger. There is quite a bit within our driving experience that will grab our attention and remind us of where we are and what is happening around us. We’ll notice the kids on the sidewalk, the lights of the cars stopping in front of us, etc. Most of us have experienced these situations and learned that it often works out well. That our attention seems to be there where it needs to be. And yet, we’ve also found ourselves arriving at our destination without knowing how we got there. Our routines and habits serve us, they assist our ability to deal with moments of inattention. The habit helps us know when to turn left or right, we simply seem to know the way.
However, it might still be limited. We’ve learned to pay attention to some types of danger and have since let go of continuously training ourselves with possible dangers we’ve not noticed before. Instead, our attention moves to something else, podcasts, for example.
Looking back at what I heard and how attentive I’ve been to the podcast; I’ll find myself noticing quite a few moments in which I’ve not heard anything. My attention had been triggered and shifted to my driving. Luckily! Coming back to the podcast I’ll notice that I’ve lost track of the subject, explanation, or story. Naturally, as I’ve lost track of the subject, I need to find a new entry point to catch up with the speakers. I’ve lost the bits I didn’t hear as well as the bits I can’t connect to after parachuting myself back into the listen.
The more I find myself in such a mix of activities the easier it may be to believe that I can multitask. And in a sense, it is true. I’m doing several things at the same time. However, as described, none of the activities received my full attention. Without my full attention, my ability to perform is reduced, my driving feels less safe, and my listening skills seem to be less effective. Whenever a problem arises now, I’ll be reminded of my inattention, or of my inability to be fully present to the task. And as the habits evolve, I might find myself criticizing myself for my inability to multitask. I’ll confront myself with my inability to grab and remember what I’ve been hearing. Or I’ll start to complain about my lack of attention when instead of taking the exit I find myself obliged to continue on the motorway for kilometers more to come.
Instead of developing my skills, I’ve become a user of either, I’ve become dependent on the ability as it was and given up on enhancing either of both. Or I might find myself dealing with expectations that have grown on me beyond the humanly possible.
Another solution might be to consider that I’m doing two different tasks a bit half-heartedly. If I’m able to accept the consequences that can be ok too.
