Get in the flow

We all want to get in a flow state, don’t we? The feeling where we’re are so in tune and concentrated on the current activity, that everything else on the periphery melts away. Time seems to not be a thing anymore, until of course when it reintroduces itself as the signal for the end of activity. Reality sets back in. Time to be an adult again.

I had such an experience at the improv class yesterday evening. A three hour night class - after an already full day at work - would typically be a slow burn. Anybody that’s taken night classes in college knows exactly what I’m talking about. However, yesterday’s three hours of improv lessons flew by super quickly. I was in a zone, so concentrated on the material and just being in the present there. The class was adjourning when I thought we’d still have one more hour to go.

I’ve really come to enjoy this beginners improv class. It has a surprisingly philosophical bent to it. Improv can only be done in the present. Whatever you’ve prepared in the past and prepared to do in the future don’t matter - the situation can and will shift in an instant. So you’ve got to be ready, pay complete attention, and be vulnerable enough to say (or act) the first thing that pops to mind. You’re going to make mistakes, you’re going to look silly - that’s the point. This class has been incredibly useful for getting me out of my own head, and letting go of social insecurities.

The instructor remarked yesterday, “You have everything you need at this moment.” A fairly zen statement to a student’s question of what if he can’t come up with anything right away. I think that student is still worried about saying the right thing, coming up with something clever and pertinent (I’m not any better). While that is indeed the goal, the flip side is that one cannot be afraid to look foolish. Worrying about what other people think stifles authenticity. At least we’re at the right class to correct this habit!

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Light bulb!

A hard day's work

The best days are when you’ve put in hard hours at work, that by the end of the night, you are so tired that soon as your head hits the pillow, you go right to sleep for eight plus hours with zero interruption. Yesterday was such a day for me, and sure enough I slept like a hibernating animal until I was once again unceremoniously interrupted by my morning alarm. Because no matter how awesome of a day you’ve just had, the cycle of life means you get to do it over again the next day.

It sure beats the alternative!

There’s this perception that those of us lucky enough to be able to work from home, the workload must be far lower than what it would have been during normal times. The mere fact that we are away from the workplace means there’s some tasks you simply cannot do. This is especially true in my field of tech support; there’s nothing we can do remotely if a user’s laptop mechanically fail. Zoom is awesome technology, but even it can’t replicate actually getting hands on a machine for troubleshooting. The scope of things to do may indeed have decreased, but quite honestly I’ve been as busy as ever these past few months of lockdown.

It’s all about making the most out of a situation, and for me, my goal was to learn as much as possible. I’m relatively new to my current team, and this year was suppose to be a period of transition and slowly learning the techniques and nuances. COVID-19 threw a wrench into that, and I was pretty much forced to grab everything on the fly. Google truly is my best friend, and so are colleagues who are super generous with their time in answering my surely inane to them questions. I have to say I've not had such a period of massive learning at work since I first started over a decade ago, and it’s always good to pickup new knowledge.

On the flip side, I could’ve easily used my newness to the team as an excuse to lay back and not do much of anything. It probably would’ve been okay, given the extraordinary situation, but that’s not how I wish to do things. One thing I always strive for and take pride in is being highly productive at work; it isn’t about making myself look great amongst colleagues or chasing promotions or whatnot, but rather it’s about feeling good about the work I’ve put in at the end of a workday, so I can return home and sleep soundly. That’s really as much as I would ever need.

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Well there’s your problem!

Skydiving and staying present in the moment

Various schools of philosophy preaches the importance of being in the present, to have supreme concentration on the right here and right now.

Those of us who study and practice philosophy know that is far easier read than executed. The mind so easily wanders to either the future or the past; before you’re even done eating dinner, you’re already thinking about what to cook for breakfast tomorrow. The modern world full of distractions certainly compounds the distraction situation, with the smartphone ever attached to us, like an IV drip of a hospital patient.

Having mind and focus on the present is incredibly tough.

I recently heard of an example demonstrating precisely the mental state of being in the present. It has to do with skydiving, and the exact moment a skydiver is about to jump off the airplane. At that time, the area of focus shrinks down to the very point that only concerns with making the jump. The skydiver isn’t thinking about his mortgage payments or that argument he had with a coworker the previous day: his sole concentration is with accomplishing the mission of landing back on the ground, safe and alive.

That’s the exact feeling and mindset of being in the present that we can harness. To be so completely involved in what we’re currently doing that other thoughts can’t possibly enter the brain. Obviously, we shouldn’t need a pretend life-and-death scenario to draw that out of us. Skydiving can be just like any other thing we do on a daily basis, and therefore it’s absolutely possible to give that same amount of focus towards anything.

It takes practice, of course. A lifetime’s worth.

I’m just running in the 90’s.

Fear of what other's think

One of my most crippling anxieties is worrying about other people’s perception of me. Perhaps this is why I never did jive well with social media, a world where the approval and praise of others is the common currency. I’d get really down on myself if someone didn’t reply to my inquiry, or had a negative reaction to one of my posts. To combat this, I’ve largely abandoned all forms of social media, save Twitter, because that is one service I simply cannot quit - far too engrossing.

The same anxiety manifests itself when I’m out in public: I’d want to be invisible, because any chance of drawing a reaction from someone - whatever it may be - has potential to be negative, or embarrassing. A strange paradox existed back when I had the Mazda MX-5 convertible: I seldom put the top down when driving because I felt completely exposed to the outside word. What if someone doesn’t approve of the music I’m listen to? Better turn down the volume.

And then I bought a 911. Yeah, that’ll help; Look at this asshole in a six-figure sports car.

Harboring such social affliction, I sure picked a weird subject to have as a hobby: photography. The task demands that I go out and be amongst others, yet I worry people will see me looking stupid, like crouching down in a yoga pose just to get the correct perspective on a shot. It’s no wonder I prefer to hike in mountains and take landscape photos: there’s no one around to see me. 

In recent years I’ve been much better in dealing with this anxiety, though being amongst large crowds at events still fills me with dread. But I know that fearing what other people think of me is absolute nonsense: no one notices me, nor would they care what I’m doing; I’m not special at all. People generally have a live-and-let-live attitude unless someone’s in danger of physical harm, so my anxiety is unfounded. I can easily go on with what I’m doing and no one will blink an eye.

Easiest said than done, obviously, but it has to be done nonetheless. Stoic philosophy dictates that one shouldn’t concern with what they cannot control; other’s perception of me is squarely in that category of incontrollable. I can’t change their thoughts, only my own, and I should be 100 percent focused on living my life as I desire it.

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I'm a silhouette, chasing rainbows on my own.

Minimalist versus the utilitarian

Back in my early twenties there was a time I was quite fascinated with minimalism. Growing up my family was decidedly poor so it wasn’t like I had a lot of stuff anyways, but the idea of having as little worldly possessions as possible appealed greatly to me then. Computer technology have allowed us to digitize practically everything; items that would otherwise take up massive amounts of space like books and CD collections can now all be stored on our devices.

The iconic image of Steve Jobs sitting in his living room with nothing but the bare essentials, an utter lack of furniture save for an extraordinarily ornate lamp. That picture was the primary inspiration back then for me to begin decluttering my life: physical books were tossed out in favor of digital, old CDs and cassettes got converted to MP3s (wish I had kept those, honestly), and reams of accumulated car magazines put into the recycling bin.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) it never got beyond that - I love material things far too much. The brief flirtation with minimalism was merely a motivation to basically clean up my room, which in hindsight I don’t suppose it’s a negative. Indeed I do tend to accumulate a myriad of items and knickknacks over time, figurines and ornaments that provide inspiration for my artistic endeavors. For example up on my shelves are a few vinyl albums on display, even though I don’t have a record player. Physical books, too, have returned in my favors in recent years, and those simply pile up after having read them, and aren’t likely to be read again.

A year ago I performed the KonMari Method of cleaning to all my belongings, and 10 full-size trash bags later my living space was renewed and refreshed. Fast-forward to the present and the accumulation creep has returned. I’ve done well to not purchase any new clothing, but the amount of books have increased exponentially, and various souvenirs from trips have materialized on the shelves. It’s all maintained neat and tidy, though from a perspective of utility it’s highly wanting.

Rather than minimalist, my philosophy when it comes to things material is centered on utility: does it serve a purpose, and will I use it regularly. That ethos helps greatly limit my frivolous spending, though conversely I use it somewhat dubiously as justification for always upgrading to the latest and greatest iPhone. It’s a device I most frequently use, therefore it’s worth the relatively extravagant sum to get it.

So with that in mind, can I then for example force myself to donate away books I’ve already read, instead of them lining up my shelves? After all their utilitarian purpose is served and gone, and the reclaimed space would be quite lovely.

That’s going to be tough.

All the curves at the all the right places.

Not putting miles on the Ferarri

“Not putting miles on your Ferrari is like not having sex with your girlfriend, so she’ll be more desirable to her next boyfriend”

— Jim Glickenhaus