It’s not that I bore easily, so much as I distract easily when I get bored or weary of the discussion. It’s like the guy with a remote control who wants to know what’s on, and also wants to know about everything else that’s on. Some days, my head feels like that remote control – bouncing from what’s on my desk to what’s on my mind to what’s on the calendar for tomorrow to what’s happening outside my window.
When I was a kid, ADHD wasn’t discovered yet, and ‘lack of impulse control’ never showed up on my report cards. Instead, teachers wrote that I should pay attention more in class and have fewer conversations with my classmates. I expect, if the teaching had been more stimulating, I might have focused better …
I’m like a dog out for a walk who sees a squirrel, and then another squirrel – each new distraction pulls my off-course of off-task. I love it. I hate it.
Focusing is consequential, whether it is writing a column every morning and uploading it every night.
Focusing reflects sincerity and respect when someone I like and esteem is talking – and when people I should not offend are talking …
Focusing should, I believe, not be a theatrical tactic or a punishment – it ought to be so because the subject, the person, the place, or thing being focused upon is compellingly absorbing, period. But society’s view, and good manners, dictate we at least feign our focus. I hate faking – in giving, or in taking – when the mind is focused elsewhere.
I believe, a strong correlation exists between impulse control and portion size – not so much with food, but concerning the size of the bites taken.
We bite off more than we can chew.
So what then is the solution?
Should we bite smaller, focus more, or should we bite into bigger things and be less worried about focus?
My difficulty narrowing focus seems to come down to two types of days – ones when I have too much to do, and days when I have too little to do; that seems to cover most days.
Again, you have the ability to creep into my head and read my thoughts. Small jobs completed always make one feel good. I suppose you mean I should try to rejuvenate my sourdough starter that sits in my fridge in a glass jar, waiting to be fed flour and water weekly with hopes of being rescued and added to a sumptuous mixture of other ingredients to make sourdough bread, scones, flat bread or pizza. Alas, I think I killed it. It grew bubbles for a few days (supposed to double in size overnight) then started to deflate just like my ambition. I get my job done on time because my paycheck relies on that. My husband doesn't get a fresh loaf of his favorite bread because his life doesn't depend on it but maybe I need to make the bread. To complete a project, even though, if I do the starter will be starring me in the face every time I open the fridge door reminding me there is another day coming, another recipe to try, another talent to perfect, DW, Oyen, AB