The Rube's Masterful Focus Exercise

One thing none of us needs to do us indulge shit thoughts. I, and others, get lost in shit thought and go mad. Ole Hank up there did. Hell, he made a career out of it. A lot of writers do. That's a big part of why we write, so that crap doesn't fester. But you can't write every second of every day, right? What then?

I like to do this simple exercise. In the garage, kitchen, elsewhere. In any place where there are many items. I look on the shelf. See the WD-40. See Phil Swift on the bottles of Flex Seal. Bicycles, a Honda, a Mini Cooper. Ladder. The cacti. Old printer box. Self tappers, a hose extension, and so on. In the kitchen, a blender. Sink and counter and toaster. Oven. You can see where I'm going with this. Though it sounds stupid and boring if you take five and do this, then move without pause to your next task, your brain will work better for you. 

Racing thoughts on the job? Have a look at your current surroundings and label five or six of them. It takes the space of a minute and no one will know what you're doing. Go back to work as if you never had to pause. If you don't have a square job, exercise. Clean. Fill your time. Look for work. Or strive for an artistic goal if that's your gig, but goddammit, STRIVE if it is. You need focus to strive. That means not thinking of how hard things are, how impossible, how painful, how scary, or what anyone thinks about your endeavor. We are not Ted Bundy-ing here, that means no one needs to know. 

Try it, why the hell not? Take a deep breath. Identify five or six items around you, it will help. This forces your brain to stop speaking for the inner critic, for the fight, flight, or freeze. It forces the brainwaves to redirect, pulling you out of that bleak house some build in the pain insular cortex. You must not live there. That's where the devil lives; the vile fuck who convinces people it's orgasmically funny to watch others squirm as long as it's not HIM, oh no. He never thinks it's funny when HE squirms, I promise you that. Ergo he's a cunt. Turn away.

I know, so pretty. That's the problem. Kinda like with dope.

If you can do this with vigilance, that is to say even when the thoughts fly howling and you're ready to commit deplorable acts of violence (or maybe just cuss someone out), it is there. And if you do it for long enough, a lot of that angsty pathology dissipates. It gets easier to think. Easier to focus. Focus becomes a game. Next thing you know, your speech is much more clear. Your brain gives you information on call rather than just when it feels like it, usually around the time there's no point in having the info anymore. Some of you know what that's like.

I felt stupid the first time I tried it. But I'm damn glad I did. Am I perfect at it? Hell no. So don't feel stupid. Not for yourself, and ye gods not because someone else thinks you should. As always, do whatever you want, but this is there for you if you choose to try it. It costs nothing. It's fucking easy as all fucking fuck. It takes very little time, sounds like a perfect move, eh? These is the way it goes for me, from my own experience, not from a book. 

Thank you for making it this far. 

And now the final bit called: Don't look it up, click the link! Here are some links if you want focus exercises not presented by an arguably disordered, albeit articulate, rube.

READ:

A friendly one with 11 exercises only slightly more difficult than what I've outlined. Most are very similar, and maybe even more fun. 

 A meaty one for those of you who like their self-betterment a bit gritty

WATCH: 

 A weird one that I almost didn't choose. At first I thought, "This lady wants to make incels." Then I realized it is the same method of finesse I still use to make myself work for longer periods without wanting to have a shot or a bump, or thinking I need that shit in my life to help me strive.

A five minute meditation. All I ever hear is "I don't have time". Well, you have 5 minutes, you just don't want to do it. If you don't want to do it, don't. But if you're going for these sorts of goals, or are a little fucking looney, or have a job that drives you postal, you need this or the like. There are many. Don't like this one? Pick another. 

And now, the hour groweth late. I must depart. If you want more, well... you know what to do. 

Look it up! And have fun on the ride.