This time of year many people are making holiday gift lists and thinking about shopping, wrapping, and mailing gifts. The other day I thought about a gift we can all give, regardless of the season, one that is immeasurable in its power: the gift of attention.

I was in Whole Foods buying cupcakes for my cousin’s wife’s birthday. When I got up to the register, the cashier looked right at me and said, “How are you today?” I answered, “Doing well – getting ready to drive to Beaufort for the holiday.” He continued to look right at me, asking me if I was looking forward to the holiday. I was astonished. I realized: this person is actually listening to me. He is not multitasking but really paying attention to our conversation. What a gift he has given me.

It is very difficult in a fast-paced, noisy society to be heard…..and it’s even more challenging to have someone pay attention to you. Whenever you walk into a restaurant or store, there is music, and it’s usually loud. My aunt told me about the time she went into a store where the music was so loud, she could barely think. She asked one of the clerks to turn down the music. The response? “I’m sorry. We get in trouble with our corporate office if our music is not maintained at a specific setting.” I’m sure there’s some sort of market research behind that rule, but I am at a loss to understand what it might be.

In my counselor education graduate program, one of our first courses introduced what are called the “microskills” of listening to someone. Attending is one of them, involving specific nonverbal cues that let another person know you are paying attention to what he or she is saying. Attending behaviors include posture, gestures, facial expressions, and voice, all of which communicate something to to the other person. They express that you are listening and that you are invested in helping the other person have a better life.

Try the following this week: observe your attending behaviors and think about the quality of your listening while you are with another person. Are you present in the conversation you are having? Or are you all over the place – listening for your phone, watching for someone else to come in the room, thinking about everything on your ‘to do’ list?

Really paying attention to another person is a generous gift that doesn’t require a holiday. I hope you can give it to someone soon.

Gotcha, didn’t I? You thought I was going to write about Nicholas Sparks’ novel. Nah. I am really writing about my love of notebooks and the particular one I am in love with right now.

The first thing you need to know is that I have always LOVED notebooks. I have had notebooks as long as I can remember, probably since I went with my grandmother to her third grade class at East Flat Rock elementary school. When I go in Rite Aid or Staples or Target, I am drawn to notebooks. I never leave without looking to see what’s on the shelves: small memo books, 5 x 9s, 5-subject notebooks. I adore them all.

When I recently moved my office, I had to pack up and move the stacks of notebooks I have kept at work for the last ten years. They have my daily to do lists, phone messages, notes from meetings, and little reminders that come up during a workday. Here are a few of them:

And they are just the tip of the iceberg. I have many more notebooks at home, stashed under my bed, in the closet, and packed in storage boxes.

But now I need to tell you something. I had no idea what I was missing until I discovered the Moleskine Cahier Extra Large journal. It costs $18.95 for three of them….and to me, a notebook aficionado, they are worth every single penny. I love the sensuous experience of opening a Moleskine, running my fingertips across the smooth, acid-free paper, and starting to write. I have been using them the past three months while taking my MOOC through Penn State, writing my blog post drafts, and brainstorming with my assistant, Allison. I have never been happier while writing, and I am beginning to think that because I am using Moleskines, the ideas in them may just be my best ideas ever.

Or not. It doesn’t really matter. I am writing again and loving the experience. That’s what’s important, right? (Does that mean I am comfortable in my own “Moleskine”?)

Have you ever run a marathon? If you have, did you think about the people around you, how a marathon is a microcosm of the human journey? (Or were you just trying to survive after “hitting the wall” at mile 20?)

This weekend, I was a course monitor for Raleigh’s City of Oaks Marathon. It was my job to stand in 39-degree weather at the corner of Boylan Avenue and McCullouch Street and keep vehicles from driving on the course until the field had passed. That’s it. So, since I only had to turn back a panicked Vet School technician and a sleepy man trying to get to his job downtown, I had a great opportunity to watch people as they went by.

First came the elites, the handful of racers who are so good at this. They were fluid and smooth, and you barely heard them breathe. Their foot strike was light, and they moved with grace and power. I marveled at their ability, secretly wishing I could be that gifted.

Then came the next pack, some of whom probably ran cross country in college. They ran deliberately, their faces solemn, their eyes focused. While they aren’t gifted as the elites, I knew they would finish fairly well because they have been doing this such a long time. It is second nature to them.

After that, I began to see groups. Many had a pacer, the person who keeps them on track to finish when they want to. Without the pacer, they might lag, or lose their focus. As long as they stay with their group, most will finish and earn a personal best. But within the groups, I could see some people already struggling, even at mile 4.7. My post was at the top of a hill, so by the time they got to me, the runners who had not trained on hills were laboring, breathing heavily. Their pacer was calling out to them, encouraging them, letting them know, ‘you made it, you’re at the top, it flattens out now.’ One woman called out to me, “I didn’t train on any hills – there aren’t any where I live….” She seemed surprised by the difficulty of the course and what it was going to take to finish.

Around the groups were the individuals. Some were with friends or family, chatting like they were strolling in the park, talking about children and work and plans for the rest of the day. Some were in their own world, listening to their iPods, maintaining a steady pace. Some walked a bit then ran a bit then walked a bit. Some were obviously thinking, ‘I’m not sure why this seemed to be a good idea 6 months ago,’ as they trudged along. Some stopped to stretch tight muscles, take off gloves and hats, or drink from their PowerAde supply. Threaded throughout were EMTs on bikes, a reassuring presence in case someone had a serious medical emergency.

A few of the runners took a minute to say to me, “Thank you for volunteering”…”Thank you for coming out”….”Thanks for supporting us.” They knew that the race would not happen without hundreds of people like me getting out of bed on a cold morning and standing in the street to protect them. They understood that, without us, this race could be dangerous.

At the end of the full cadre of runners came the trail car, the police car that follows the very last participant. On this day, it was a walker determined to finish every last mile of the 26.2. He was not alone, even if he felt like it. There were people there to watch over him, to be sure he was all right.

Honestly, I was in awe. I had the feeling I was watching all of humanity: young, old, male, female, Caucasian, African American, Hispanic, fast, slow, effortless, struggling…with even more people gathered around to support them in their journey, no matter how long it took.

I’m glad I got out of bed at 5:00 am.

Anyone who knows me understands that, during the fall and early winter, I watch football. A lot of football…college and pro.

This weekend, for some odd reason, I started thinking about the penalty for illegal motion. For the uninitiated, a referee calls illegal motion when offensive players who are moving before the snap of the football don’t come to a complete stop before the center snaps the ball. If they are still in motion, a flag is thrown, and the offense is penalized five yards. Fans and coaches alike become instantly frustrated when their team makes this mistake. Coaches say things like “we have to be more disciplined. We can’t keep hurting ourselves with mindless penalties.”

I wonder what everyday life would be like if we all were penalized for illegal motion?

Sounds like a strange notion……but think about how many times we act impulsively and move before we should. A colleague writes a seemingly innocuous email that we take wrong, and we fire back without thinking it through. A friend unintentionally does something that hurts us, and we lash out without considering why it might have happened. A loved one forgets to pick up the dry cleaning, and we impulsively bark “I can’t believe you did that to me!” instead of trying to find out if something kept them from completing the errand.

David Burns, an expert in the field of cognitive behavior therapy, has written volumes on automatic negative thoughts that cause us trouble. He says that there are ten cognitive distortions that we encounter, including “all or nothing thinking,” “overgeneralization,” and “magnification.” Without mentally intervening in our automatic thinking and recognizing these distortions, we end up in arguments, distance from each other, and, sometimes, broken relationships. I know I can look back at numerous instances in my life when I wish someone had “thrown a flag” and warned me that I was moving before I should.

Recently I was at a meeting where, in response to something I said, a person responded in an abrupt, cold way. Instead of saying something equally abrupt in return, I stopped for a few seconds and thought to myself, “don’t take this personally. Perhaps she is just having a bad day.” I then said, “thank you for the suggestion. That is helpful.” To my surprise, I felt calm. Even though the person was oblivious to how I might have been offended, I was all right. And I hadn’t fractured the relationship with a colleague by overreacting.

Illegal motion….the next time you are tempted to fire back, imagine a ref getting ready to throw a flag. Avoid the penalty, and avoid the unpleasant consequences.

When people are stressed out, some think about taking up yoga.

If someone mentions yoga to you, what comes to mind? People sitting on mats, their hands pressed together in front of their hearts, legs crossed, breathing deeply, right? They are stretching their muscles, and they are calm.

That’s a little bit of what happens, but only a little.

When I went to my first yoga class several years ago, I thought, ‘hey, what a great way to decompress: you’re not running or climbing or swimming or lifting heavy weights. You and your classmates are just listening to a very nice person who doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly. There is beautiful music playing. The lighting is soft.’

Then class started. And I was in a whole different world, one where if you don’t pay attention to what’s happening, you can end up at your doctor’s office, begging for muscle relaxers.

After the introduction and deep breathing, everyone went into downward facing dog, probably the best-known yoga pose. I thought, ‘okay, this is pretty good. I like this.’ Then my teacher moved my feet apart, gently pressed my back down, and told me to lean on my hands with my chest pushing backwards. “You don’t want to hurt your wrists,” she said calmly.

I thought, holy crap, I feel like my shoulders are going to explode.

And that was one of the easiest poses we did – in a level one class. Because then what we had to do is lift one leg straight behind us, swing it through between our hands on the floor, and land it. Then bring the other leg up to meet it. After that, put your hands on the floor.

After a couple of poses, I thought, ‘gosh, am I going to survive this? How long have we been doing this? I peeked at my watch: 8 minutes. Eight minutes?? How will I get through an hour?’

Thus began my relationship with yoga. After that first class, I actually didn’t stop going. I did do some research and talk to some friends who were long-time yogis to learn more about what yoga is and why it is beneficial.

First, I had to understand that yoga is both a physical and mental practice. It requires mindful attention in the moment, all the time. You can’t be distracted, thinking about what you’re going to get at the grocery store, or why your friend forgot your birthday, or what time the game starts. You must listen to your instructor, watch how the pose develops, and then be sure to get your feet, legs, hips, arms, shoulders, hands, back, neck, and head in the right position.

And believe it or not, as you keep practicing, you feel better. You feel more connected to your body and mind. You gain confidence in your physical abilities, regardless of your age. You know that you are able to be strong mentally. You understand why it’s important to be in the present moment and not worry about things that haven’t happened yet.

This past week was a very stressful one for me and my colleagues. There was a lot happening, some of it very upsetting. I made sure I went to yoga class Saturday. There, I and my classmates were with B.B., an amazing instructor who is funny, easy-going, and non-judgmental. I loved being in the building. It wasn’t loud (and we all know how loud the world can be). People were kind to each other. “Let me move my mat so you’ll have enough room.” Everyone knew we are there to do something good for ourselves. I felt calmer just walking into the studio.

That’s really how yoga helps me manage stress. Try it – and thank me later.