Lately I have noticed that the modern human nervous system is being asked to process an impressive amount of information before breakfast.
A new war somewhere in the world. Political drama at home. Economic predictions. Climate news. A friend’s vacation photos. A video of a raccoon opening a cooler. Several people explaining why civilization is about to collapse. Several other people explaining why everything is actually fine.
All of this arrives through a small glowing rectangle that we voluntarily check about 147 times a day. It is a lot for a mammal. Especially a mammal who only opened the phone to check the weather. Evolution did not anticipate the unhinged, and occasionally deranged, comment section.
For most of human history the signals that reached us came through the senses. We saw what was around us. We heard what was nearby. If something demanded our attention it was usually happening in our immediate environment. A storm rolling in, a neighbor calling across the field, a snapping twig in the woods. Now we are asked to metabolize global crises, geopolitical analysis, moral outrage, economic speculation, and the opinions of several thousand strangers before breakfast.
The human body was not originally designed to function as a breaking news ticker.
Which is one reason I keep returning to practices like yoga, somatic movement, walking outside, breathing consciously, listening to John Prine music, and simply paying attention to sensation. These things look almost absurdly simple on the surface. But they do something quietly radical by returning our attention to the place where life is actually happening. Not in the swirl of headlines and commentary, but here in the body, in this breath, in the moment we are inhabiting right now.
It does not mean we stop caring about the world. Quite the opposite. The practice, at least as I understand it, is learning how to care without combusting. To stay informed without turning our inner circuitry into a twenty-four-hour alert system.
I penned a short reflection about this recently in another blog, thinking about how the idea of “unplugging” has evolved. It used to mean simply turning off devices for a while. But the challenge is not only distraction. It is amplification. Social media algorithms have become exquisitely skilled at understanding what keeps human beings engaged, and it turns out that outrage is excellent for business. Fear travels quickly—and certainty spreads a lot faster than nuance.
Now unplugging feels more like learning how to maintain some sovereignty over our own attention in a world that is extremely eager to capture it.
A Small Invitation to Practice
If this theme resonates, I’ll be exploring it in a free online session on Saturday, March 28 at noon EDT as part of the Feathered Pipe Main Hall Workshop series. It's a short experiential practice about sensation as teacher.
In this spacious, exploratory session we’ll move in simple, adaptable ways that emphasize sensing rather than performing. Instead of trying to achieve poses, we slow down enough to feel what is actually happening and allow that awareness to shape the way we move. The practice blends Freedom Yoga with the principles of Movingness, a somatic movement approach grounded in exploration and adaptability. Expect options, variation, and moments of curiosity along the way.
The Main Hall series is Feathered Pipe’s way of sharing a little Ranch spirit through the screen during the quieter months, and the Zoom workshops are completely free. As a small bonus, one live participant will be randomly chosen to receive a $200 credit toward a 2026 Feathered Pipe retreat.
If you’d like to join, I would love to see you there. Reserve a spot here.
