Portrait of Eleanor, Countess of Lauderdale (Detail), Angelica Kauffmanc. 1780 - 1781
Nearly every morning, I wake up around 6 or 6:30. At this time of year, out here away from the city lights, it's dark and still. I make coffee, I sit by the fire, I read, sometimes I write. It's a quiet time where, after the caffeine kicks in, I feel most capable. My brain is crackling with ideas and connections. I feel curious.
As the day goes on, my power to concentrate wanes. By evening, I'm running on fumes. It feels like, if I let one more thought form, my cup is going to overflow. This is when I'm most prone to mindless distraction; it's when I choose to zone out.
Zoning out can take many forms, but it usually involves something easy, mindless, and entertaining. Sometimes it's scrolling through pinterest, or online window shopping, or watching YouTube videos. It feels good and doesn't tax me.
I hesitate to say that zoning out like this is always a bad thing. Maybe sometimes our brains simply need a break. And I definitely think there's value in just feeling good without too much thinking – laughing at a funny cat video or watching a corny TV show or whatever. But this week, I started wondering: what does the opposite of distraction feel like?
If zoning out feels pleasant and numbing, what is the opposite state?
What I realized is that there are actually many feelings that are directly opposed to distraction. Concentrating on a hard problem at work, for example, definitely means eliminating distraction. And that sort of focus can be quite taxing, especially if you do it for hours at a time.
But that's only one type of focus. Another is simply going for my morning walk and paying attention to my surroundings. Or creating something with my hands. Or listening to a beautiful piece of music. Or talking to a loved one. Each of these provokes a different feeling, but what they all have in common is the simple act of giving attention.
Sometimes it feels impossible to give any more attention at the end of the day. But I wonder if, because I'm so used to giving a very specific type of focused attention throughout the day as I work, I forget that there are many other ways to pay attention that are actually replenishing.
Like so many other things in life, when I find myself between two extremes – in this case, focused work and complete numbness – it's helpful to open my eyes to all the nuance that actually lives in between. When I do that, there are almost always more choices that I'd realized.
Magic Moment
I brought a few branches into the house this weekend, and tucked some of the little cuttings into a bud vase instead of tossing them out. The shadows they create have been delighting me. Sun in November, what a treat.
And it was lighting up Duke’s ears too.
(Sorry, couldn’t resist sneaking in a cat picture.)
Head, Heart, Hands
Things to make us think, feel, and do.
This illustrated guide to coming up with creative ideas is so, so helpful.
The Man Who Quietly Built a Massive Archive of Artists’ Deaths. The portrayal of artists’ lives (and deaths) in the media was (and is) so fascinating.
Here’s a very simple and practical exercise for when you find yourself thinking too much.
I am a big believer is self-compassion over self-esteem. Here is a guide to being kinder to yourself, if that is something you also struggle with. I’ve learned, you can too.
You don’t have to be the best. All of this resonated with me, especially when it comes to this newsletter. It’s my practice of creating something from my heart and not something with grand ambitions.
The auction of Joan Didion’s estate offers a sketch of her life.
Just look at these works of art reinterpreted in flora.
I’d like to try making a mattress cushion like this. Have you ever tried it? I’m a little intimidated by the physical requirements of all that hand stitching.
I don’t know why, but I’m always enchanted by charted textile patterns of all kinds. This weaving manuscript c. 1800 is inspiring.
If I ever finish this sweater I’ve been working for months, I’d like to make a balaclava. I’ve been searching through dozens of patterns, and I think this is the one for me.
Question of the week
What do you do when you’re too tired to think? Do you tend to zone out at the end of the day, and do you think that’s a problem at all?
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I give credit to business writer Nir Eyal for helping me learn an alternative term for the opposite of distraction. It isn’t focus.
It’s Traction.
Traction implies that you have decided what you intend to do and then you do it. Sometimes the best thing to do is schedule and take some downtime. For me, that’s often a daily scroll through Pinterest, guilt free. I need to relax my mind and body so I schedule a time to do that, to renew myself.
Sometimes that time you “wasted” was not wasted.
Cheryl Nov. 17
Knitting a very simple pattern is the way I end my day. The feel of the yarn and the click of the needles is soothing and relaxing for me. I can't seem to fall asleep without this tactile exercise, but I have been known to fall asleep with the knitting in my lap, and my hands holding the needles.