In Focus
I’ve never been very good at directing my focus. I’m not incapable of focusing—find me obsessively working on a little project or hobby that’s caught my fancy and you’ll see—but controlling it is another matter. I lose interest in things. Doubt often creeps in. I give up before I start. I’m hardly unique.
The last few months, though, have been trying, and I find myself both increasingly unable to sustain focus and yearning for it more. I deactivated Twitter yesterday—a move I’ve pulled with some regularity, usually for a couple months or so, to give myself a break and hopefully regain some sense of control over my perspective on the world and the life happening around me. Being a verified user made it easy, giving me up to a year to reactivate. Post-Elon, I’ve been demoted back down to the regular 30-day deactivation. I may leave the account to die. We’ll see.
Leaving one social media platform is hardly a cure for what ails me. There’s no technological fix. All I can do is work on changing my mindset, building some amount of confidence in my wants and my actions. Last week I published an interview with Steven Soderbergh, a man I find admirable and intimidating in his ability to push forward without dwelling. I dwell. A lot. It’s a kind of focus I wish didn’t come so naturally. Dwelling prevents action. The number of article ideas I’ve had, which I’ve never pitched because I sit there mulling them over, worrying about their relevance, or my ability to deliver, or whether I’ll have anything intelligent to say… It’s debilitating. That extends to every part of my life, my relationships, all of it.
Of course, if I already knew how to be different, I would be. I am what I am, I suppose. But lately I’ve felt something bubbling up inside, through a stew of anxiety and depression, that has me wanting to be more present in all sorts of ways. For myself, for the people around me, for my work. Harnessing that feeling is another matter. I’ve got no idea how I’ll do it. I’d like to try, though.