One Thing at a Time
In search of something interesting and meaningful to learn, I came upon Leo Babauta’s post on his blog Zen Habits, called The Cure for Your Distraction Syndrome.
At first read, sitting in my room with upwards of ten different tabs open on my laptop, I had to smile. Since I am a person who struggles with staying focused, my initial reaction to Babauta’s post was to laugh at the familiarity of it all.
I read a few of his other posts, most of which had glaringly similar traits. Then I put my computer away and went about my nightly routine. I had decided Babauta’s posts were too similar, which annoyed me, and so I planned not to use anything from his blog for this particular endeavor.
But as the week went on, something strange happened. I found myself wildly curious about these 7 steps he had laid out and described. There was a simplicity to them; their practice began to make sense to me as a way of becoming more focused. I decided to try it.
Before I go any further, an important disclaimer must be made. I am in the midst of a turning point in my life in terms of personality and mindset, and have been working on some incredibly in-depth self-reflection – much more than usual. And usually I am a naturally self-reflective person.
That said, the practice of Babauta’s “cure for distraction” has had (and is continuing to have) an enormous impact on me.
Here is a brief overview of his 7 steps, in case you already have too many tabs open and you don’t want to read the original post:
1. Become aware
2. See your main distractions
3. Find one thing to focus on
4. Clear everything
5. Set a timer for 20 minutes
6. Watch your mind try to run
7. Take a break
[8. Repeat]
Now if you’re like me, much of this process won’t seem shockingly new to you. A good way to solve most problems (whether small scale – individual – or large scale – global) is to generate awareness, notice your own personal contribution to the problem, narrow down your options for working on the problem, and then focus on that strategy.
However, the matter-of-fact language, the simple, reality-based instructions, and the acknowledgement that this is a hard mountain to climb, not just for you, but for lots of people, really struck me. Again, this could be due to a “right time, right place” phenomena, but nevertheless, the results are tingle-worthy.
The step that resounded with me most was step four, “close all programs you don’t need. Close your computer if you don’t need it. Otherwise, close your browser, or at least all browser tabs you don’t absolutely need for this task. Turn off your phone or put it on silent and hide it. Just have this task in front of you.” In fact, as I write this, I’m proud to say the only thing open on the computer is Microsoft Word.
The potential for transfer of this practice to my regular everyday life is electrifying. These past three years and two terms of college have marked the most anxiety I ever thought I could be capable of. Every assignment I’ve done has been fraught with panic. I have been filled with absolutely devastating fear that it wouldn’t be good enough; that any thoughts I might have for something as simple as a class discussion would be riddled with inaccuracies and ambiguity.
I have wasted three years of music school worrying that someone would find me out – that I am in fact a terrible, awful musician, with absolutely no ability to practice, count, or subdivide; with no real knowledge of genre, theory, or nuance; with a failure of a brain in terms of dictation and listening and error detection. The list of irrational fears goes on. If I had been able to calm myself, practice one small thing at a time, perhaps I could have enjoyed my first experience with collegiate education a little more.
But this past week, with Babauta’s steps in stow, I’ve created a new mantra for myself: “one thing at a time, Katrina. One thing at a time.” And already, I’ve stopped to breathe. I wrote a discussion question for my Psychology of Music class with nothing but my absolute thoughts and truths to inhabit it, and people chose that question to discuss over others.
On a larger scale, I thought of the many people I know who also struggle with focus and confidence in getting lots of things done. Maybe we are not beings filled with hosts of mental disabilities and setbacks; maybe we just have distraction syndrome, and maybe reading this post and practicing these habits will help us discover our own paths to mental clarity and focus. So turn off your phone, log off Facebook, and dive in.