Focus

I think that everyone should have something where they can get into a state where nothing can stop them. I do this with climbing. Not every time, not every tenth time, maybe every fiftieth time. On that fiftieth attempt I find myself in a state where everything falls away and there's nothing but me and the wall in front of me. I can feel the chalk on my fingertips and gauge how sweaty my hands are. I’m acutely aware of the stickiness of my shoe rubber on a hold. But I couldn’t tell you what’s on my to-do list, or what time it is, or when I need to leave, or what’s for dinner or any of the other million things that clutter my life. It’s just me and the task at hand. A sequence of movements to take you from start to end, dialed in to the sticking point just past good enough but before perfection. I’m succeeding and struggling. Partially a routine performance, partially an unfolding experience with no guaranteed ending.

I’m not saying everyone needs to start climbing. I couldn’t care less what you do honestly. I just think that everyone needs something that they can dive into. If cross-stitch or crochet or motorcycles or running gets you there, more power to you. I believe that the most underrated skill a person can have is the ability to take solace in the task at hand, to sink into the process, and love the moments spent being a part of a project that couldn’t possibly be perfect but will certainly exist anyway. The peace found in trawling every possible chess move or in the way you move dancing to too-loud music. The weight of the thousandth step of a hike, the focus of mixing the right shade of paint, the mistakes of your first novel, and the smell of cooking dinner. Sink into the process, be present, find a passion that can eclipse the worry of our massive, frightening, unfriendly, stressful world. You won’t be perfect, but you’ll exist anyway. 

Nobody can do it for you, the moment when everything falls away is yours to find.