Focus :: 079
Hi friend!
Too Many Things
I open the front door to a stranger. As I open, she starts her speech.
"Hi, um, I'm selling girl scout cookies to–"
Let me stop you right there. It's not that I don't like cookies. Or that I think this girl or her scout troop will misuse my money. It's just that there are too many things. Too many causes to care about. Too many places asking for money and my full attention and if I'm not angry then I'm not paying attention.
Maybe I just don't have that much attention to pay.
We live in a world where causes and people fighting for them are literally knocking at our door. And for a while, I felt dumb. Or impotent. I mean, what can actually I do for refugees from Venezuela? How could I really make a difference for the climate? And will it matter to anyone if I stop donating to planned parenthood? There's too much to care about.
I came to a realization. I can have more impact if I focus my donations. I don't have to be as passionate as everyone else about every issue they are. I can have mine. I can focus on those. Rather than give $5 here and $25 there, if I took the amount I donated last year and distributed that amount only to the 3 issues I really care about, it would be more useful.
Ever since I started Caveday, I'm thinking about focus. But especially this month, I'm interested in what happens when we focus. And when we don't.
Our focus becomes our reality.
Ready? Aim? Let's go.
More Boredom, Please
My kids often complain they're bored. "Good," I say. "Boredom is good for you." Figure out something to do. Be creative. Make up a game. Find a task. Clean something. Imagine a story.
But I'm a hypocrite. I don't let myself be bored. Walking from the family room to the kitchen, I pull out my phone. In the bathroom... phone. During the time the kids are playing together, I'm refreshing my email. But certainly it's not refreshing for me.
Every "empty" moment of downtime, I fill with content.
Maybe at one point I believed that content would help me learn or be interesting. I'd have relevant topics and questions to bring up to my friends– hey did you see that thing or let me tell you about this article I read.
But I'm finding that the content that fills in every blank of my life is actually draining it. I'm trying to focus on less.
If being bored is good for you, then maybe I should do it more. Solutions and ideas and creativity don't come when I'm busy and focused. They come when I'm thinking and daydreaming and walking and... bored.
Less multi-screening (especially the watching-tv-while-sort-of-working-and-also-checking-my-phone time). More mind wandering. Less fill in the blanks. More boredom, please.
The Opposite of Obsession
Fifteen years ago, my writing partner came into the office with a revelation. "I've figured out the secret to life." I lean in... "One thing. Just have one thing that you love and do and it becomes a metaphor for how you live. My thing is surfing." He explained, "You go out there and can't predict what will happen. You just try your best to have fun and ride what comes. You'll probably fall but there will always be more waves."
It made perfect sense. Just focus on one thing.
I just didn't know what my thing was. I was a graphic designer who loved playing sports and music, nerding out on comedy and film, interested in travel and relationships. Examples of "one thing" started showing up everywhere. I heard interviews of The Lonely Island talking about their obsession with everything comedy. I read books like So Good They Can't Ignore You by Cal Newport which argued that "do what you love" is misguided and better career advice is pursuing expertise. The title comes from a Steve Martin quote, applied to his comedy and musicianship.
But wait.
Comedy and musicianship. That's not one thing!
I think I'm changing my mind. Maybe focused expertise wasn't the only path to success and happiness in life. I found role models that were more multifaceted. Jim Henson is an experimental filmmaker, puppeteer, actor, and songwriter. Paul McCartney is also a painter. I watched TED talks that introduced the idea of being a multipotentialite and found The Everything Conference (which I was invited to speak at last year).
In his book Let My People Go Surfing, Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard talks about being 80% good in a variety of skills. "Beyond that takes such a level of obsession and commitment to specialization that it’s not always worth it."
Instead of focusing on one thing, I've found permission to be unfocused. To diversify my investments. I live my life not in pursuit of expertise but breadth. I'm always learning, noticing, exploring, being curious. I love getting great at new things. But I don't need to be the best.
Drishti
Lately I've been getting into the yoga classes on Peloton. Usually just a 20 or 30 minute class, but one ambitious Tuesday, I fit in an hour advanced class. We did handstands and crow poses (actually, the teacher did, I did more falling) and balancing in half moon.
I couldn't get it.
Maybe I need more core strength, I thought.
Maybe I need to just practice more.
As if the teacher was reading my mind, she says "if you're off balance, try finding a drishti."
...I'm listening...
"A point of focus can help ground you."
It makes so much sense. When our eyes wander, our mind wanders. But when our vision is centered, so is our mind. And our body can balance.
What might be our relationship drishtis?
Do we have career drishtis?
Feels bigger than yoga.
The Paradox of Plans
This month, I turned 40. I've tried to make sense of my life up until this point. Maybe it's something like this: My first decade was learning to become a person. The next decade was preparing for adulthood. In my 20s, I was becoming myself–experiments in social and professional development. My 30s was about building a life to support others–marriage and family and community. When I look backwards, my story becomes more in focus. It's easy to see what was an outlier that once felt like the narrative. But looking ahead, it's not clear what the next decade will bring. I have some ideas and goals. But I've learned the paradox about plans– they're both laughable to even make in the first place and that I wouldn't want to live without one.
Still, I'm stepping into the blur with a plan. It will change. And so will I. And in 10 years I can laugh at the idea of even having one in the first place.
Thank you for being here with me. Nice to not be alone.
Until the blur becomes in focus...
Refrigeyalater,
-Jake
"Love starts as a focusing of attention. " -David Brooks in The Second Mountain
Hey snap out of it. It's me again...
A few topics I cut from this month: life progress by category, being distractable, gamesmanship and focus on winning vs sportsmanship
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The Email Refrigerator is a monthly delivery of essays, poetry, imagery, and thoughts, written and curated by Jake Kahana. Why a refrigerator? Well, it's where we look for snacks, a little freshness, and where we hang the latest, greatest work. And besides, "newsletter" sounds like spam.