Focus

The worst part of being a hopper is a lack of focus. This results in the despair that nothing of value is getting done. Or to clarify, when tasks actually get done, usually in the most inefficient way possible, there is little reward in the experience. No zen in the effort. Which leads to an off-putting feeling, something disconcerting that’s hard to pin down. The word “Why”, as in “Why am I even doing this?” often pops up, despite a deeply-felt conviction that this task is what I must be doing.

This probably doesn’t make much sense. I’ve spent little time actually analyzing these feelings, this condition of hopping, because, well, I guess I think there’s little value in doing such. Sense a pattern? Perhaps baby steps are required.

Focus. That is the antithesis to hopping. And since I derive – at least I used to derive – the most daily pleasure from reading, I figured I’d start there.

Normally, I read two or three, even more, books concurrently. In my over-rational mind, they had to be one fiction book for the hope of pure enjoyment, one non-fiction book to improve my writing, a spiritual book I’d read at night to help with my peace of mind, and maybe a reference book or two for passing subjects that gave me passing interest. I would read a few pages of one, followed by a chapter in another, followed by twenty minutes’ reading squeezed in here and there of the reference books, and … well, I read the books but could neither retain nor enjoy what I read. (Melancholy.)

So, a simple exercise in focus.

Read one book at a time.

…

Could not do it.

Okay, then let’s try the baby steps. The very minimum, I decided, was a fiction book and a non-fiction book. One I’d read during my lunch break at work, the other at night after my daughter was to bed.

This has been working for almost three weeks now. But it’s tough. I did skim through forty-three pages of a library book semi-related to my non-fiction reading one day, and I bought yet another used book at Barnes and Noble. However, it seems I’m making progress.

(Shaking my head ruefully …)