Watching someone else’s story unfold allows us to feel excitement, inspiration or relief without having to take risks ourselves.
THERE is a fine line between enjoying a story and slowly drifting into it. Most of us have crossed that line without noticing.
A song played on repeat because it lifts the mood, a series watched late into the night because it feels familiar or a steady stream of content that fills the silence between tasks – these moments bring comfort and distraction, and sometimes a sense of belonging. There is nothing inherently wrong with this.
Stories, music and shared narratives have long helped people cope, regulate emotions and feel less alone. The quieter question is not whether enjoyment is healthy but what happens when it begins to occupy more space than our own lives.
The human mind is naturally drawn to experiences that feel emotionally rich yet safe. Watching someone else’s story unfold allows us to feel excitement, inspiration or relief without having to take risks ourselves. It offers escape, it is soothing and for a while it feels easier than facing uncertainty.
From a cognitive standpoint, this makes sense; the brain is wired to conserve energy. Observing effort or emotion can activate similar neural pathways as acting, without the cost of action. This is why imagined worlds, constant updates and curated narratives can start to feel larger than life. They provide hope, confidence and direction in ready-made form.
The brain enjoys this because it receives emotional reward with minimal effort. There is no harm in that, unless we forget that our own lives deserve the same attention.
When attention drifts too far outward, it is rarely because people are careless; more often, it is because they are tired, overwhelmed or quietly searching for meaning.
Real life asks for patience, responsibility and emotional presence. Watching asks very little in return. But life does not happen on a screen.
Beyond what is visible and shareable, people are showing up every day in ways that rarely attract notice. They are caring for children and ageing parents, teaching, healing, volunteering, protecting animals, supporting communities and holding families together. These acts are not dramatic; they come without applause. Yet, they shape lives in real and lasting ways.
So, how do we catch the mind when it begins to drift away from our own life? One practical approach is “attention labelling”. The moment you notice yourself scrolling, binge-watching or mentally escaping, pause and name the state without judgement: “I am avoiding”, “I am tired” or “I am seeking comfort”.
Research shows that naming a mental state activates the brain’s regulatory centres and weakens automatic behaviour. The aim is not to suppress enjoyment but to restore choice.
Another method is “micro-grounding”. Bring attention back to something immediate and physical. Feel your feet on the floor, notice your breath for three slow cycles and name three objects around you. These small acts anchor attention in the present, where action becomes possible.
A third technique involves rapid interruption, often referred to as the “five-second rule”. When you notice hesitation or distraction, count down from five and move immediately into the next required action. This brief window prevents the brain from engaging its avoidance circuitry.
In Mindprint terms, this is the moment where a thought becomes a trace; when action follows awareness quickly, the trace reinforces urgency rather than delay.
From an engineering perspective, the mind also responds well to clear intention cues. Before consuming content, set a boundary in advance. Decide how long you will engage and what you will do next. This creates a mental handover rather than an abrupt break.
The brain transitions more smoothly when it knows what comes after.
It is also helpful to reconnect attention to purpose through small, tangible goals. Instead of imagining distant success, focus on the next step – five minutes of writing, one message sent, one task completed. Motivation strengthens when progress feels immediate and real.
In truth, meaning is not found in spectacle; it is built through participation and through choices made repeatedly, even when no one is watching.
Enjoying stories does not require devotion. Appreciation is complete when the experience ends and we return fully to our own lives. Stories can inspire and comfort but they are not meant to replace living.
Perhaps the gentle reminder is this: enjoy what moves you, then notice where your attention flows next. When it comes home, life regains its rightful place, not as something observed from a distance, but as something actively lived.
Mind the mind and remember where life is actually happening.
Dr Praveena Rajendra is the author of Mindprint: Engineering Inner Power for Growth, Purpose and Regeneration.
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