One of the most significant gifts we can give in this modern, busy time of ours is our time. With so many demands placed upon us, we often find ourselves talking or listening to someone who needs us while we are also driving, watching TV, answering our cell phones, text messaging, making dinner, going through a stack of mail, or taking in everything else going on around us. We’re only half there. Sound familiar?

The sages of both East and West understood the importance of focused attention—of being mindful and fully aware in the now. The Christian monastic Basil of Caesarea, for instance, said, “You cannot succeed in loving God or your neighbor . . . if your mind is perpetually distracted.” To the Zen masters, full awareness of and openness to what is taking place in the moment is indispensable. A famous Zen master put it this way: “When walking, just walk. When sitting, just sit. But above all, don’t wobble!”

It’s impossible to be fully giving unless we are giving our full attention. That may sound obvious and even simple, but how often do we do it? How often do we maintain an unbroken connection with those who need us?

The Unbroken Circle—Learning from Lovers

Giving your undivided attention is a gift that is both nurturing and healing. It breeds that rare and precious commodity of true intimacy and connectedness. To understand this better, think about how you can tell when two people are deeply in love. As the saying goes, lovers only have eyes for each other. Each one’s gaze is fixed on the beloved—so much so that they don’t notice what is going on around them.

When we are locked in that warm embrace of an unbroken circle of energy, we know that at that moment we are the sole object of our partner’s attention. We feel deeply loved and supported. In fact, a focused, heart-centered connection is an essential ingredient for good relationships in any setting.

I watched the transformative power of focused attention in action when I was supervising a large department of editors and researchers. I would be at my desk hearing about issues that needed attention and, at the same time, my phone would inevitably ring, bringing news of some urgent problem that needed to be solved. I didn’t realize how exasperating and even disrespectful my taking those calls felt to my teammates until one of them pointed this out to me.

I started to turn off the phone and let the calls go through to my answering machine when I was engaged in crucial or timely conversations. As a result, I was able to understand and resolve issues more quickly. More importantly, this helped create more connected and compassionate relationships with my co-workers.

Better than bigger is the gift of the heart.

As little children size up their stack of birthday or holiday gifts, bigger and more always seem better. I’ll never forget the sobs that came from a little niece of mine one Christmas morning when she finished unwrapping the two gifts my husband and I had given her, only to see that her sister had an extra package from us to open. She felt cheated, even though we had carefully spent equal amounts of money on them both.

As adults, we may still pull out the mental measuring stick when it comes time to open our gifts. Yet take a moment and think about the times, as a child or adult, when you felt most happy, joyful, or at peace. Were those moments really defined by how much money someone spent on you? Or was it the time and attention you received or the intimacy and connection you experienced that made you feel exuberant?

The best gifts aren’t necessarily the biggest and most expensive ones. As the renowned Lebanese writer Kahlil Gibran wisely observed, “You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” Do you have an experience you can bring to mind to remind yourself of that truth? I do.

One summer day, not long after my husband and I had moved into a new home, my almost five-year-old neighbor Sophie peeked through the bushes separating her backyard from mine and introduced herself. After she and I had exchanged some important facts about each other, like how old she and her sister were and the names of my kitties, she suddenly asked, “What’s your favorite color?” “Well, I like yellow,” I replied. In an instant, she was off, disappearing around the side of her house and calling behind her shoulder, “Stay right there, stay right there!” When she returned, she came bearing gifts. “Here’s a flower from our garden,” she announced, “a yellow flower.” With a smile big enough for the both of us, she stretched her arm toward me. She was carefully holding between her fingers a perfect yellow pansy.

It’s been a few years since Sophie graced me with her pansy and I’m sure she’s forgotten all about it. But I’ll never forget her gift—and the smile that leapt from her heart and landed smack in the middle of mine. Sophie knew instinctively what the beloved classic of India, the Bhagavad Gita, has taught for millennia: “He who offers to me [God] with devotion only a leaf, or a flower, or a fruit, or even a little water, this I accept from that yearning soul, because with a pure heart it was offered with love.” It’s not just what you give but how you give that counts. It’s not the size of the gift but the size of your heart.

How big is your heart?