On the Loss of Focus

Disclaimer: This was written in the summer of 2019, not during COVID-19 quarantine.

I’m sitting in Bryant Park, just having taken a walk after hearing a short talk by the founder of Getaway House, Jon Staff. His talk, about the importance of disconnecting both daily and regularly for long periods of time, reminded me of something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. That is, the loss of focus we are experiencing as a society.

I have been re-watching Mad Men, a show I watched as it was released and am working my way through again, joyfully, one episode at a time (“binging” isn’t in my vocabulary mainly as a result of the major time constraints of my life and strong requirement for adequate sleep). Over and over again, we see Don Draper close himself off in his office. Sometimes he’s napping, or getting drunk, or staring out the window. The other night it struck me that there are many things absent from this scene: no music or even a radio, obviously no computer, no iPhone, Instagram, Facebook, no text messages. Even the push-button phone on his desk isn’t ringing off the hook. When he closed that door, he was left completely alone with his thoughts. It occurred to me how productive, focused, and liberating that would feel. 

As I sit attempting to concentrate on a work product, or a thought, I am constantly bombarded by information: emails are pouring in (99% of them being completely non-critical, although labeled just the opposite – every one sounding like the world is on fire), text messages, the FOMO of what life I am missing on Instagram, calendar invites. It causes a severe lack of focus that likely would have caused Don to cease being Don. The beauty of his character is that he always seemed to be able to bring his business pitches to a higher level, a success which, for those who stood in those real-life shoes, was likely borne out of the many quiet spaces in their world. 

So I wonder, what are we missing out on while we are constantly bombarded by data informing us of what we are missing out on?

April 30th. It's never too late to start again.

I have decided something over the past few days. A few things actually. 

One, I have, for my entire adult life, in large part lived out a narrative that was applied to me, not one I had chosen. I listened to my mother who constantly reminded me to be happy in my present circumstances, that money was the root of all evil, that sex was something to be ashamed of. I listened to my father, who by way of his own feeling undeserving of anything good in this world made me feel inadequate to achieve a stupendous existence. I listened to my grandfather who constantly told me to “get a good civil service job.” The message was not to reach for anything grandiose because it was either a) bad or b) unachievable.

I remember when I first saw Bruce Springsteen. I’d heard his records. I’d heard many records. Music was my inspiration and my refuge, but seeing Bruce Springsteen on stage via the videocassette my grandma gave me for some occasion I don’t now remember, I knew that was what I wanted. As I grew up, I knew two things without hesitation: 1) I wanted to play music and 2) I wanted money. Lots of it.

Then, like so many before me, I lost my way. I got married, I had a kid. Then another. Then another. Then I got divorced. I spent the years during my marriage feeling I had to do what I had to do to provide for my family, so I took what financial open doors were presented to me. I made none of my own. I took a job as a project manager working on a large hotel project. I enjoyed some aspects of it – but mostly I hated it. But I was good at it. I’m good at anything I put my mind to. But the issue is in longevity: how long can one keep pressing on through a stressful career they hate? It’s been ten years, and I’m done. 

The things I’ve realized, and decisions I am making, today, in writing, in front of this screen and the universe:

1.     I will no longer make excuses. Yes, my circumstances are my circumstances. I will always have three children. I will always have an ex-wife. I will always have had made a decision to leave music, to study interior design, to not work as a designer. But tomorrow is a new day which has never before existed. And the days that string together as years before me have, similarly, not yet been lived. Their story isn’t written. And I will write mine. I’m constrained to the pages, but the text is mine. 

2.     I will live a life of passion, and I will excel. Today I wrote myself a check for $1,000,000 and wrote “April 2022” in the memo. I plan to cash this check two years from today. 

I haven’t yet decided what drastic alteration I am going to make in my life. I have some ideas which are more plausible, others more far-fetched, but I am going to textually verbalize all of them and elaborate on each and how to achieve each. While I might decide one cannot be pursued, I am not barred from consideration of the details, and allowing myself to continue to ignore thinking through them is only allowing time to pass while I drift through life, half asleep and uninspired.

3.     I will live a life of generosity. Every month I will donate to a cause, consistently. Right now, I will send at least $25/month to One Life to Love. I will decide on three possessions I love to give to friends. (More thought to be given to the latter.)

4.     I will foster new friendships and strengthen old ones. (Specific names removed.)