How to Reclaim Your Lost Attention: The Art of Mindful Reading (01)

When I woke up, I was standing in front of a mirror. I felt stronger and more energetic than the day before. Was this person in the mirror still me?

This question sounds a bit absurd, but what if I woke up one day, picked up my phone, and discovered that the person who loved watching funny TikTok videos yesterday was suddenly obsessed with reading literary classics today? Would I still be the same person? If such a shift happened without warning, I'd probably feel a jolt of panic, because it would truly seem like I wasn't the "me" I knew.

We can't drastically change our physical bodies overnight, but a sudden shift in our information preferences is possible, albeit rare. Who are we, and how do we define ourselves? Beyond the physical body we see in the mirror, our emotions, culture, thoughts, and our taste in information are what truly shape our identity. They are constantly changing, and their influence on our self-perception far exceeds the limitations of our physical form.

Reading, writing, and building a product all have one thing in common: they can attune your attention in a specific direction. Over the years of building Cubox, my perspective has quietly shifted, and more and more things have entered the world of "reading." Looking back at old entries in my Day One journal, this belief has only solidified: reading is the act of interpreting and understanding the world; it turns out everything is related to reading. And from this, the question I'm most curious about has emerged: How do our emotions and thoughts influence, and get influenced by, reading?

Writing to Find a Way Forward

As soon as I thought about publishing some of my journal ramblings, an opposing voice in my head immediately popped up: "This isn't worth writing; everyone probably knows this already." I shifted my perspective to that of a reader and thought it would be more appealing to write something like, "This Method Will Help You Easily Read 100 Books a Year." I focused intently on this voice and finally understood the honesty of the other, smaller voice in my mind: "The truth is, I'm worried it won't be good and people won't like it. So why bother writing it at all? That way I won't get any bad feedback!"

I'm not sharing this internal dialogue to excuse the points I'm about to make. I'm sharing it because it's a perfect example of the "emotions and reading" theme. Any cognitive activity—be it writing, reading, or speaking—triggers countless uncontrollable internal voices. Sometimes, we aren't even aware of them.

In primitive societies, human emotional fluctuations typically came from signals that triggered survival crises. These emotions could be converted into massive action to avoid disaster and help a person survive. But what about today? Our emotional fluctuations rarely stem from genuine survival challenges. Instead, they've shifted to psychological identity, originating from seemingly harmless, fragmented information.

We can be in a peaceful office, casually scrolling through a friend's social media post or the headline of a blog post, and in that instant, our mood can be disturbed: "How did they become financially independent at 30, and I'm still worried about my mortgage?" "Oh my god, did I miss out on something?" "Why would someone post a selfie while eating hamburger?" "How can I lose ten pounds in a month like her?"

Don't underestimate these fluctuations. They quietly pile up in our minds like a mountain. A few seconds of information input can lead to days of emotional exhaustion. It's persistent, subtle, and seemingly endless. As social animals, we judge and define ourselves through others and the outside world. Of all the creatures on Earth, perhaps only humans have this profound experience—it is both a gift and a curse.

The modern information environment is skilled at deception. It pretends to be beneficial, pretending that more information is always better, so that we become immersed in it. The various mechanisms designed into social media leverage these emotions, further amplifying their harm.

Information views also have distinct generational and regional traditions. Our culture is great at passing down an irresponsible information perspective, making constructive discussion difficult to initiate because each person maintains their specific role within the group. Let's recall some of the views we might have heard or seen around us:

• “I have more experience than you do, so listen to me.”

— Authority and experience are the ultimate truth.

• “Why ask so many questions? It says so in the book.”

— Standard answers are all you need.

• “The authorities will handle it.”

— Vague expressions are the norm.

• “Everyone else does 'xx,' so why don't you do 'xx'?”

— The group takes priority.

• “It's the next big thing, you'll get rich quick!”

— Consensus is king.

• “Look at how chaotic 'xx' is. Our way is so much better.”

— Emotion-driven choices.

• “'X' is the trend. 'Y' will be eliminated sooner or later.”

— Taking a side is required.

• “You know!”

— Avoiding discussion.

No offense is intended, and these don't represent any specific stance. They might come from a family member, a formal document, a social media comment, or even something we unconsciously say ourselves. In this environment of intertwined information and emotion, reading, which should exist as an active, thoughtful activity to help us resist emotional exhaustion, notice what's wrong with the information, and improve our communication, has for various reasons become passive and an accomplice to this problem. We no longer choose what we read; we are chosen by what we read.

Ultimately, I believe that in the future, how we handle information will be more important than the information itself. But the problem is, how we handle information is determined by our way of thinking, which is also shaped by all sorts of information, isn't it? Has this all become an inescapable vicious cycle?

I am not a pessimist. The writing in this series, just like Cubox, is a tool and a process to help me clarify my thoughts and practice realism. I believe that the most effective coping measures are actually hidden within each of us. All we need to do is rediscover them. Even if there are only a few readers, we can still find a way forward together.

Writing About What Is Overlooked

The reading I'm referring to isn't limited to books or articles; it's the observation of all information, including listening to music. The saying "we are what we read" means that we must realize that everything we see and hear, every piece of information, is subtly shaping everything about us.

But as I mentioned before, I want to add a new perspective: the self that is shaped by information also determines how we treat what we see and hear—what we are, shapes what we read.

Anyone engaged in creative thinking needs to notice what others overlook, to break free from distractions and focus on the world.

The word "noticing" from the book The Art of Noticing gave me a sense of an everyday yet beautiful state. This is why I titled this series "Mindful Reading," and if it had a subtitle, it would be "The Art of Noticing Information."

There is an unrevealed side behind every piece of information. Mindful reading helps us focus on everything that happens when we read, including our emotional experience during the process, and not just the information itself.

Each person is like a receiver. Simply changing the quantity and quality of information input is not enough. The goal of mindful reading is to first tune this receiver itself, optimizing its information processing method. I will use my limited personal experience to show that with more practice—with practicing paying attention to the often-overlooked but crucial "backside" of information—we can be less easily swayed and live better within the information landscape.

The word "mindfulness" perfectly aligns with the various reading attitudes I want to express. But I won't just talk about it in the abstract; I'll discuss reading and information management in a practical way, writing about big topics on a small scale and familiar topics in an unfamiliar way. For example:

• How to use digital tools to create an environment that supports mindful reading.
• How to reduce unconscious reading.
• How to combat reading FOMO.
• How to aid reading by understanding the author's perspective.
• How to aid reading through writing.
• How to make reading an aesthetic experience.

I'll also intersperse some of my strange daily inspirations (and some practical ones), related to:

• How to read the news.
• How to read short videos.
• How to read nutrition labels.
• How to read commercial advertisements.
• How to read instruction manuals.
• How to read a menu.
• How to read an AI conversation.
• ...

I hope this gives you some inspiration. If you have any perspectives of your own, please feel free to leave a comment and share. I will incorporate your insights into my writing.

Everyone Loves Reading

My colleague Michael is a documentary and book lover. He told me that many movies follow a formula that has led to aesthetic fatigue for him, but documentaries, because they must be faithful to real stories, often end in unexpected ways, which he finds fascinating. He described how one day he saw a collection of interviews with director Zhang Yimou. Reading the text in a Q&A format was like watching a different kind of documentary, and he loved it so much he couldn't put it down. He said, "Once you find something you're interested in like that, would anyone truly not like to read it?"

I feel the same way—interest is so important! In middle school, I was obsessed with the lyric booklets in every one of Jay Chou's cassette albums, copying them down for myself and my classmates, and repeatedly savoring their beauty. In college, because of my passion for car racing, I made subtitles for the official F1 documentaries and collected the complete DVD set of Top Gear... These were all forms of reading that I loved.

Our education system seems to imply that we only know how to read if we have mastered all the knowledge required for exams; that we are "good" at reading only if our reading comprehension perfectly matches the standard answer. But this goal-oriented reading has made some people who originally loved words gradually reject reading. However, a lyric booklet, a movie, or a documentary all have their common spiritual and experiential value. This kind of reading, born out of love, may naturally extend into more possibilities. For me personally, the lyrics made me fall in love with poetry, and my handwriting got better. The racing videos helped me score well on the English test without any specific preparation. Some things just happen naturally.

For those who think they don't love reading, relaxing your relationship with it can help you stay open, and new possibilities may appear in the future. Labeling yourself as "not a reader" may not actually keep you from reading, but it will certainly reduce your awareness of reading itself and take away the possibility of mindfulness.

I'm not saying that all reading is equal and that as long as you like it, it's fine. I'm saying that in the era of "big reading," everyone loves to read. Try changing the negative statement "I don't love reading" into a more specific, concrete statement. The relationship between reading and your self becomes a lot more relaxed:

• I haven't really read any books since I graduated.
• I don't seem to have much interest in literary books, but I'm often moved when I see a beautiful phrase.
• Compared to text, I prefer listening to podcasts, and I'll listen to podcasts that summarize books because it feels like I'm saving a lot of time.
• ...

Someone who isn't keen on a fancy feast might still prefer a simple bowl of homemade noodles. Someone who doesn't listen to classical music can still love an easygoing melody. Please don't reject this possibility. Try standing on the side of reading first!

This mindset is not just for describing our relationship with reading; it applies to anything. And because of this, I hope to always "write nonsense seriously" in my writing. Genuine thoughts flow in a nuanced way. Written expression should not only be concise but also precise. Precision here doesn't mean the words are brilliant, but that they are sincere, capturing those subtle, vague ideas from deep within our hearts through rich language. This process cannot be simplified by AI; it can also be called "Mindful Writing."

And with that, we've completed the first step of the "Receiver" tuning guide: turning on the power.