DLGP

Doctor of Leadership in Global Perspectives: Crafting Ministry in an Interconnected World

The Mystical Path to Productivity

Written by: on April 4, 2025

Working with this three-pound organ in my skull has been my full-time job for most of my adult life. I’ve tried every productivity and management system I could find to keep the infinite areas of interest and responsibility passing through my awareness somewhat under control. There have been lots of fits and starts but rarely successful longevity in managing what’s happening in there over an extended period of time. Neuroscience has given me helpful knowledge of what is happening up there, but the consistent action that leads to success — whatever that is — seems to be a combination of both art and science (and dare I say spirituality). Willpower and discipline are incredible, but they seem to desire nuance and flexibility — and something else — to round off their rigidity.

The most productive moments in life — those rare times when everything flows and meaning emerges in real time — don’t seem to come from hustle or hyper-organization. They tend to arrive quietly, sometimes unexpectedly, often in the absence of trying. That’s curious.

I’ve been wondering lately: what if productivity, in its most powerful and human form, is less about output and more about orientation? Less about what we do and more about where we’re doing it from?

There’s a strange paradox I keep bumping into. When I show up to teach or speak from a place of striving — over-prepared, trying to get it right — things often fall flat. But when I arrive attuned, settled, and aware — not empty, but open — something different happens. There’s coherence. The words arrive without effort. The room shifts. And I’m not quite sure who’s leading whom.

This experience has made me curious about the relationship between awareness and action. Specifically, what neuroscience might have to say about it. Enter: Dr. David Rock.

In Your Brain at Work, Rock introduces a metaphor that has stayed with me: the Director. He writes, “The Director is a metaphor for the part of your awareness that can stand outside of experience. The Director can watch the show that is your mental life, and therefore your life, make a decision about how your brain will respond, and even sometimes alter the script.”[1]

This Director is housed in the prefrontal cortex — the area of the brain responsible for executive functions like focusing attention, inhibiting impulses, and making conscious decisions. But the way Rock describes it, the Director seems to point beyond biology — toward that quiet, observing place within us that watches without judgment and guides with clarity. Could this Director be the same “witnessing awareness” spoken of by contemplatives, mystics, and poets for centuries?

I find myself wondering: what if the key to sustained, meaningful productivity isn’t in optimizing our tasks, but in learning how to live from this Director place — this seat of intentional presence?

And if that’s the case, how do we get there?

One tool I’ve come back to again and again is Daniel Siegel’s Wheel of Awareness.[2] It’s become a practical centering practice I use with individuals in spiritual direction and in group settings on retreat. Imagine a wheel: the hub is awareness itself — the Director — and the spokes are all the things we can pay attention to — bodily sensations, thoughts, emotions, relationships, even mystery. The practice involves mentally “rotating the spoke” of attention to each area while remaining centered in the hub.

 

What’s beautiful about this tool is how simple and disarming it is. It helps people get out of their heads — not by shutting down thinking, but by expanding the frame. By returning to the center. And what often emerges is not more thinking, but a kind of quiet clarity. Spaciousness. Insight without effort. I’ve come to see it as a kind of doorway — one that invites the Director to step forward.

I wonder if that’s the goal of all true centering practices — not to escape reality, but to return to the seat from which we can see reality clearly. A kind of cognitive homecoming.

There’s a similar thread in Michael Singer’s The Untethered Soul.[3] He invites us to notice the voice in our head, and then notice that we are not that voice — we are the one who hears it. The more we identify with the listener, the Observer, the freer we become. And strangely, the more life seems to move through us with ease. Singer speaks of letting go, of staying open, of allowing experience to arise without clinging or pushing. This, too, feels like a way of inviting the Director to the stage.

And then there’s the Christian contemplative tradition, which speaks of the inner witness as the indwelling presence of Christ — the silent still point within. In Centering Prayer[4], we return again and again to a sacred word as a symbol of consent to God’s presence and action. It’s a practice of releasing, not grasping. Listening, not thinking. I’ve often experienced this as a softening, a gentle re-entry into the present moment — not as a task, but as a grace.

What I find fascinating is that all these frameworks — from neuroscience to mysticism — converge on the same insight: we become most fully ourselves, and most effectively engaged in the world, when we are aware of awareness itself.

This is not to say that effort doesn’t matter. Or that strategy has no place. But maybe strategy without centering leads to burnout. And maybe effort without awareness leads to noise. But when awareness leads — when the Director is in place — what follows tends to be coherent, creative, even sacred.

So I’m wondering: could it be that the future of productivity lies not in doing more, but in being more present? Could the most meaningful work emerge not from the planning room but from the quiet interior space where attention meets presence?

And could the Director — this mysterious, observing self — be the very key we’ve been overlooking in our quest to work better, lead better, live better?

The idea is almost laughable in its simplicity: that something as subtle as awareness could shape the outcomes of our days. But the more I study, the more I practice, the more I notice — the more I wonder.

Working with this three-pound organ in my skull has been an ongoing experiment. It’s taught me that clarity isn’t always the result of thinking harder. Sometimes it’s the fruit of watching more gently. Of remembering that I am not just the thinker — I am the one who can step back, observe, and choose again.

If that’s true — if the real work of work begins not in our task lists but in our inner posture — then perhaps the next frontier of productivity isn’t ahead of us. It’s within us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1]Rock, D. (2009). Your Brain at Work: Strategies for Overcoming Distraction, Regaining Focus, and Working Smarter All Day Long. HarperBusiness.

[2] Siegel, D. J. (2010). Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation. Bantam.

[3] Singer, M. A. (2007). The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself. New Harbinger Publications.

[4] Keating, T. (2002). Open Mind, Open Heart: The Contemplative Dimension of the Gospel. Continuum.

 

About the Author

mm

Christian Swails

Christian is the founder of CoCreation - a Startup Hub for social entrepreneurs in Savannah, Ga. He serves as the Spiritual Director for Wesley Gardens Retreat Center and Wesley Monumental United Methodist Church.

12 responses to “The Mystical Path to Productivity”

  1. Rich says:

    Thanks for the post.

    My first thought was agreement based on the converse. High output in the wrong direction is not productive and potentially counter-productive. Logically, this does not prove your premise but we are walking in the same direction. I then think of my own observations regarding teaching and my relative levels of preparation, whether knowledge, emotion, or emptying myself. We just read Bobby Duffy and I’m probably wrong. Thus, I appreciated your connections to the spiritual disciplines and the recognition of effort, strategy, and awareness together.

    My question is in regards to being aware of awareness. It is hard to shake Duffy. Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things.” What do you do to guard against delusion? I’m not familiar with the wheel of awareness, so maybe that tool has a feedback loop.

    • Hey Rich,

      This is a deeply theological and philosophical question. How can we trust our Self – how do we know it’s not delusion?

      There is A LOT going on in the psyche, the soul, the mind, the heart – whatever part you choose to associate with the Self – and whatever definition you apply to these. The heart is not just emotions, the mind is not just the brain, the psyche and the soul – well, who knows what those are.

      So I agree with you, much room for delusion here. All of that interior stuff is deeply influenced and affected by many layers of conditioning, trauma, decisions, habits, expectations, fears, desires, experiences, and on and on and on.

      What the mystics believe is that beneath all of that is an untouched, unaffected, untraumatized, egoless, eternal presence. Christ in us. And from that place we have direct access to the source of wisdom, power, and love.

      The tricky part is learning to know the difference between the layers and the Presence. I don’t have a short answer for you there. All I can say is that there is a difference and the more time I spend in that place of Presence – the more decisions I make and actions I take that seem to be outside of my layers. I also begin to experience deep, nervous system-level healing that allows the layers them self to fall away.

      This is my take on less of me and more of Him.

  2. Joff Williams says:

    “What if productivity, in its most powerful and human form, is less about output and more about orientation? Less about what we do and more about where we’re doing it from?”

    ^^ This. Is. So. Good. ^^

    In my experience, it’s true. I have restructured my days to take intentional walks after periods of intense thinking or meetings. It’s remarkable how much my productivity has improved – not in valueless quantity, but in valuable quality. The opportunity to pause and reorient has made a real difference.

    I’m curious about Singer’s theory of observing. If the voice in our head is not us, who would he say that is? I get the director and self-awareness concepts but to disassociate from the self, I don’t understand (yet).

    • Yes! More walks! I am fan, Joff and applaud the courage you have to do that.

      Singer is great and worth reading. This is a nuanced question. I’ll see if I am interpreting it correctly:

      If the voice (or thoughts, or feelings) in our head is not us (by “us” I am going to insert Self) then who is it?

      First, the Self is the truest part of us. In our tradition we would say that is Christ in us. Not as a separate thing, but a unified presence in us. “This is the mystery of our faith, Christ in us, the hope of glory.” (Col 1:27) Christ manifests through us into the world in our uniqueness. This is the git of human dignity God gives. Jesus gave us His Spirit. The Father and the Son have made their home in us. (John 14:23). This is our truest identity.

      Now, if that is who we are, what are the voices (thoughts, feelings, ect). These are the things that typically run our lives and make our day to day decisions. It’s the layers we have on top of that Christ presence. The conditioning, trauma, decisions, habits, expectations, fears, desires, experiences, and on and on and on that we have collected throughout our entire life.

      I should say that it’s not exactly the layers, it’s more so the “parts” of our psyche that have been affected by those layers. Many traditions describe this differently. To keep it short, in Internal Family Systems Therapy language, those are exiled, young parts of ourself that are stuck in the shadow. It’s like this inner cast of characters we have developed over the years to get what we need out of the world and feel safe. IFS teaches us to work with those parts from the centered places of Self or Christ in us and offer them acceptance and compassion as a means of transforming and healing them.

      This is different from many Christian traditions of rebuking parts of themsleves they don’t like and blaming those thoughts and actions on the devil.

      In this sense – it is not disassociation, it is detachment. It’s not being enmeshed with those trillions of sensations, thoughts, and feelings – but observing them from a centered and compassionate place.

      I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. I know I waited a bit late to respond.

      Thanks for the insightful question, Joff

      • Joff Williams says:

        Thanks, Christian. As always, your responses are thoughtful and interesting. As IFS is a relatively new concept for me, I appreciate you taking the time to explain this further in that system.

        My question around Singer’s view of identity is more related to this comment: “He invites us to notice the voice in our head, and then notice that we are not that voice — we are the one who hears it.” If that voice isn’t us, who is it? From your explanation, do I understand correctly that the voice is not the ‘Self,’ then it is one of these exiled cast of characters you describe?

        • Yes. That is precisely what I am saying. Now, I should say that this is not Singer’s language, this is my synoptical synthesis of the observer (or director) and the parts being observed.

          I should also clarify that I am painting this is view of the Self hearing the other voices that are exiled or nagging. There is another type of “voice” that we would hope to hear – being the voice of the Self or Christ. That is not the voice Singer, nor I am talking about here.

          So there is a Voice that is from Self and there there are many voices from “parts.” People experience that Christ Voice in many different ways, but typically it is much more subtle and when you get into that presence most conversation fades and there is a Knowing that replaces it.

          This is the “via negative” or apophatic path of spirituality – the quiet, dark, unknowing. Vs the more common active, cataphatic path through images, words, devotions, ect.

  3. mm Jess Bashioum says:

    I appreciate how you connected the Director to the inner awareness. It makes sense to me. Sometimes, in my effort to do all the things I know to do to slow down and organize my thinking, I end up on a rabbit trail frustrated at myself. Contemplation has become one of my “successful” states to find the “hub” you talk about (thanks for the graphic). After practicing it so many years, I still find it a challenge to get there. I take up too much space that it gets hard to find the Spirit in me.
    Rock talks of ARIA method to gain insight. How would you fit this into your thoughts about being present and aware enough to create a new way or idea?

    • Jess, I can relate to the rabbit trails. This is a challenge for active minds in meditation. The best news I found in all of this is that I don’t have to get my mind to be still to meditate or experience the Director.

      I can just step back from the thoughts and watch them carry on like driftwood on a river. Of course, every few seconds I am tempted to hop on one and float downstream. Then I remember my intention (usually through a sacred word or phrase) and hope off, returning to the Director. The best part is this transforms a failed mediation session filled with thoughts into a practice session with 1,000 reps of returning to center. After time, you can let the thoughts happen without being swept away by them.

      The ARIA method seems like a good acronym. Whatever helps you practice. No method in this realm is easy, it just takes practice. And you have been dong it for a long time. Do what you know, and keep returning. There is a secret work happening in your soul and it affects your everyday life. That is the point. Practice in a way that mitigates the barriers of noise and distraction, so that you can respond to the things of life from a place you are becoming more and more familiar with. Christ in you.

  4. mm Betsy says:

    I love these lines in your blog:
    “Of remembering that I am not just the thinker — I am the one who can step back, observe, and choose again.” And “if the real work of work begins not in our task lists but in our inner posture — then perhaps the next frontier of productivity isn’t ahead of us. It’s within us.”
    I do agree and thats maybe the limit of our multi-tasking culture alongside the sickness of our cognitive focused culture where there has never been more available knowledge, but heart’s seem to be growing harder with people showing less desire to know people unlike themselves.

    I have just finished the next book, ‘The Sound Of Leadership’ (I feel I am cheating here so sorry!) and a quote from him that seems to be saying that you are speaking of is this:
    “Leadership is “being” resulting in “doing.” Who a person is determines how that person leads, and how a person leads flows from who that person is.”
    I need to be around people like you who have a pace that is wiser. Thank you.

    • You bring up some great points here Betsy. I agree, multitasking is anti-productive and more knowledge is not leading to whole people. And not only that, it is doing the opposite, as you stated above. It is leading to dis-integration. We don’t need more productivity tips and technologies – we need deep and whole humans integrated within themselves, with each other, and the rest of creation.

      The quote you pulled from the future (next week’s reading) rings true for me. I also know that I can easily lead out of who I am not. And you know what, it sucks and makes me miserable. I have done it, can do it, and am celebrated for doing it. And in my mind I am judged for not doing it. But you know what, no-one actually cares. People move on. Best to find the authentic place the generates internal warmth and depth and find a way to operate from that daily, than push the boundaries of finitude and pretend we can organize and keep up with all this chaos.

      You didn’t ask for any of that, but I think I’m coming out of a recent cycle of getting caught up in the unnecessary grind of the false story.

      It would be a joy to work alongside at a human pace and orientation.

  5. Michael Hansen says:

    Christian,

    I was wrestling with the interpretation of accountability regarding overall productivity and perhaps the separation of the two (or not). I enjoy the idea and thoughts behind refactoring or remeasuring how to be effective or productive. What would that look like if it were more intentional? I can share that most of my recent discussions at work have been around hitting targets (production) or doing more with less (efficiency) it doesn’t necessarily leave room for the other. I agree that the amount of preparation, intent, planning, and execution can lead to a much more rigid and close-handed outcome. There is less freedom and flow in those moments.

    • Michael, you have identified the flaw in my blog. This Presence orientation lends itself to certain environments and vocations over others. Though I do believe it is the posture for tending to all of life, there are many environments in our society that make it damn near impossible, or at least seemingly irresponsible as a working philosophy.

      It sounds like the goals of your organization are suited to and measured by production and efficiency. I certainly believe that this Director work still applies and would benefit, in some creative way, your bottom line.

      More practically, this approach would make it’s way into your leadership, presence, and culture creation with your team. The org sounds like it operates like a machine more than an organism, but could the humans inside the machine benefit from more presence and awareness as the means by which they operate the machines? If so, how?

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