I write this as one afflicted; for a long time I've been trying to comprehend the significance of and connections between memory and presence of mind, and a large piece of that just fell into place. St. Paul wrote, "For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate." (Romans 7:15) I, and I hazard you, take solace in this when I sin. Paul's image of the predatory devil helps us to find consolation by pushing our minds from guilt to repentance. But there exists a specific, extremely common, application of this that I propose is erroneous.
That specific circumstance is the first moment of silence after a long period of distraction. You probably recognize it. After some time comfortably lost, thoroughly pleasured in the busy world–most often your phone–you come to the cusp of a moment of self-awareness. No longer are you a worker, a friend, a this, or a that, but you're about to be simply yourself. To enter that moment, you must shoulder the yoke that is you; that is, you must assume the unalienable identity, history, and experiences that form your actual self. It sucks. It probably isn't what you want it to be, whereas in your various other identities you have some measure of success, maybe even dominance. But when you shed all those, what's left? It's a daunting prospect, one that causes many to turn back to distraction.
I ask people I talk to if they're okay sitting alone with themselves in silence, and the answer is often no. They live their lives without ever finding the silence and time necessary to truly self-reflect. They live essentially deceiving themselves, because they never confront themselves. It isn't a thing that must be done frequently, as the knowledge gained by introspection remains largely true over time; but not completely. Time wears, it washes, it changes who you are. Many people balk at the cusp of self-awareness because they don't recognize themselves, and there's little more frightening than to perceive that your inalienable self is not only not what you expected, but not what you wanted.
You might imagine several other consequences of never confronting yourself, but I have a certain one in mind, having to do with memory. First let me show a connection between distraction and memory: names. How often, when you meet a new person and they give you their name, do you immediately forget it? I do quite often, and just as often observe those around me doing the same. How insulting, to forget something as sacred, singular, and personal as someone's name! If the Lord calls them by name, maybe that name is worth remembering. We always ask again with a heavy dose of embarrassment, because we sense a truth: remembering requires presence of mind, which encompasses both paying attention to something and considering that thing worth remembering. If you don't pay attention or don't consider something important, you won't remember it. This is the insult we unconsciously perceive when we forget a name, that we didn't consider someone worth remembering; and yet the truth lies in the other half of this equation: we weren't paying attention. We were distracted.
This distraction is not an occasional thing, but an affected lifestyle. It causes us to forget not just little things like passing names, but important things too. I was rereading birthday cards from the past month and I thought, "How could this young man who is loved so thoroughly still sin?" Then I realized: it's because I forget. Now, forgetting has always been a part of the human condition. Eve, in reciting God's only command back to Him during the fall, misquotes Him. "Remember who you are," Mufasa called to a young lion on the savannah who had lost himself in colorful bugs and good company. How much easier is it to lose yourself in the wonders of the internet? We are so much more distracted, and so we forget at a truly terrifying rate.
We really do forget who we are. That young man who just read his birthday cards and felt, for a moment, warm and satisfied, quickly forgot it and returned to sin. "Be sober and vigilant. Your opponent the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). What Peter left implicit was "Be present and remember." Remembering must be practiced, it must be sought, or something as plain as yourself can be forgotten; and then what reason do you have left to be surprised when you do that which you hate? Of course it seems incongruent with who you are; you forgot who you are.
This is how we have gone beyond Paul's words. Yes, forgetfulness is a natural condition that pushes us to sin, but distraction is the rejection of the present moment and the welcoming of forgetfulness. It is the willing placement of yourself in a state where sin occurs as easily as a whim. Distraction is the sin of sloth, of abandoning your yoke for comfort. Jesus said, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light," but it was still a burden that still had to be borne. What we face at the cusp of self-awareness is our own, heavy yoke; and it must be picked up, just for a moment, so that it can be thrown away and replaced with Christ's. It requires confronting, no distractions, who you really are.
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