My Now – 10/5/2020

                                              A Love Letter to Focus

Dear Focus:

It’s been years since I dumped you for digital distraction.

You were right. I got seduced.

I fell for the wide-eyed promises of a more exciting life filled with posts and tweets.

I fell for the vainglory appeal of shares and likes.

I fell for the promises of round-the-clock shopping, non-stop news, instant sports scores, and immediate answers to everything.

All promises under the collective guise of making my life easier.

But what I gained in ease and convenience I lost in individuality.

If I try to do anything without it digital distraction erupts into a jealous rage. It begins pinging and buzzing and ringing and vibrating.

It does not want me to have a life away from the screen.

It does not want me to get my fingers dirty from gardening. Nor numb from skiing.

It does not want me camping without service.

It does not want me reading a book.

It does not want me to have any hobbies.

It does not want me to think on my own.

And it especially does not want me to engage in quiet conversation with anyone.

Remember our favorite Counting Crows lyric? That nugget of a line from Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby: “If you’ve never stared off into the distance, then your life is a shame.”  It mocks it incessantly, calling it outdated Thoreau-speak gibberish.

Without you focus I can no longer slip into the coveted flow state, needed for being my productive best.

Without you focus I’m no longer feeling the magic of portent, possibility and the magnificent maybe.

Without you focus I feel as if every waking moment I’m squared-off against a pocket-sized digital black hole that is increasingly becoming a sophisticated snooze button for life.

Thanks, as always, for your attention. or 303.229.0583.