A few months ago, a received a compliment that totally floored me.
I was told I had a great ability to focus.
I was caught off guard by this comment, because this was a trait I didn’t quite see in myself.
I’m notoriously self-critical, and don’t like to dwell on my strengths. But I do know what they are.
Or, at least I thought I knew what they were.
Now, I’m reconsidering.
You see, I’ve long bemoaned my lack of focus, more than anything. I’ve considered my struggles reading books or maintaining attention when watching TV at home. And I’ve dwelled on the trouble I’ve had conversing with others with a lot of noise and movement around me.
This regret has eaten away at me, like a powerful acid.
After all, focus is my goal. A laser-targeted focus could help me achieve my objectives more efficiently and effectively.
I’ve likened this idyllic focus to being early-career Tiger Woods on the golf course.
Tiger had an uncanny ability to tune out all the noise around him and hone in on the task at hand. It helped him dominate a field of the world’s best golfers and tame the toughest courses — even in the harshest of conditions.
I’ve actually experienced this sensation of hyper focus before — although not on Sunday at The Masters, with the whole world watching. And not for as prolonged a period.
No, this sensation has come when I was in what some psychologists call a flow state. That’s a period where all distractions and time melt away. A period where one can truly hone on what needs to be done, and then execute upon it.
As a control enthusiast and intensely task-motivated person, I consider flow states to be pure gold. They are the essence of my greatest productivity.
But they’re also highly elusive. I can’t just snap into one on command.
And that constraint has darkened my entire outlook on the subject of focus.
It’s led to consternation when I’ve struggled to get more than a chapter into a book. It’s caused queasiness every time I’ve found myself paying more attention to the conversations around me than the task at hand. And it evoked dismay and disappointment when the writing of this very article spilled into a second day.
In short, it’s what’s led me to consider focus a personal liability for many years.
But now I wonder, do I have it all wrong?
Perhaps the young lady who lauded my ability to focus was right. For, in certain scenarios, I clearly can stay locked in. I certainly can execute on my objectives with ruthless efficiency in those moments.
I’ve demonstrated this many times throughout my life. And I most assuredly wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t.
But truth be told, I’m not the only one with these abilities. Surely, we each have our moments of focused brilliance, just as Tiger Woods once did on the links.
The key word here is moments. For focus is context-specific.
None of us can stay hyper-focused all the time. If we did, we wouldn’t be human.
So instead, we operate in waves. Of productivity and aloofness. Of efficiency and inefficiency. Of good days and bad ones.
This is the natural balance of our lives. And the sooner we get accustomed to it, the better.
There’s no point in trying to own every moment. It sets the bar far above what’s realistically achievable and only sets us up for disappointment. I know this as much as anyone.
Better to own the moments that mean the most.
Focus matters. But context matters more.