Attention (one of life's little commodities)

I was struck by this passage in a Sherlock Holmes mystery that I read last night:

". . . I lay upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a yellow-backed novel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared to the deep mystery through which we were groping, and I found my attention wander so continually from the fiction to the fact, that I at last flung it across the room, and gave myself up entirely to a consideration of the events of the day."
-Dr. Watson in "The Boscombe Valley Mystery," The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I think it struck me partly because I'd had the exact trouble reading this very story - in fact, it took me three nights to read some fifteen pages. Usually, I don't have much trouble, even late at night, getting sucked into a book and losing complete track of the time. And usually, the plot of the book needn't be too terrific, either, for me to find it a useful escape from the normal cares of a day. However, there are certainly those times that no fiction survives "when compared to the deep mystery through which we [are] groping."

Mind you, the recent "deep mysteries" of my life have been pretty puny themselves, and yet the thought of this passage makes me realize once again how even small matters can matter much to an individual.

At this point, my little monologue could take several turns, and I'm having some difficulty knowing which turn to take. I could talk about the puny mysteries of my life, such as wondering how our dear cat will survive his new home with my parents, or how we'll ever fit all our possessions into boxes, or even how I'll force myself to finish the school projects that I am dreading with all my being.

Or I might meander through thoughts of how deeply sorrowful the plight of education is, when we are attempting to focus the attention of so many kids who find us about as interesting as Watson's yellow-backed novel in comparison with the daily dramas of their home lives, peer relationships, and personal life struggles.

Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to think about how we, in general, show or lack respect for people in the very way that we allocate our attention. Similarly, musings on this matter might reveal much about the reasons others treat us the way they do sometimes.

But perhaps you've already flung this piece across the room in favor of considering your own day's events. . . .