Focus is everything to me. It can be my worst nightmare or my greatest asset. Without focus I am at the mercy of my emotions. When I’m on top of my emotional rollercoaster it almost feels like I slip into a rhythm:
Don’t think just write
Don’t think just reply
Don’t read just write
Don’t read just reply
Pure emotion flies by
I don’t know what I said, I don’t know why.
Focus to me comes in ways that I never thought would happen 10 years ago.
At work I shut off email notifications at work, and I’m completely immersed in some geeky spreadsheet, with music playing in my ears. My mind isn’t wandering because I’m totally involved in that task. I don’t feel a sudden pang of stress because emails (or as I like to call it “other people’s to do lists”) are flooding in.
At home I write, and my brain doesn’t have the capacity to think about anything else other than writing. (Not that I’m happy, sad or hungry). Whether that’s journaling or getting something down for this. Or once a week I trail run. Although I have prodigy in my ears throughout most of the run, I pause “smack my bitch up” and take in the view. Being able to live in the silence, and be thankful that I have this time to take in the beauty that is around me. Years ago, I would have done anything to distract myself from the silence. I would have picked up my phone and scrolled through facebook. It’s strange that the one thing I was so scared of, is my salvation.
The silence used to be full of my anxious thoughts:
“You’re not good enough”
“You’re not pretty enough”
“You made a mistake there”
The silence is finally a place where those thoughts pop like a bubble. Outside I can see for miles, and miles and can see past these thoughts into the future. Where they don’t matter.