Coming Soon
- What I Learned From Hyperfocus (And a Little Experiment With My Own Attention)
Inspired by Hyperfocus – How to Manage Your Attention in a World of Distraction – Chris BaileyI didn’t expect to get much from the book Hyperfocus by Chris Bailey—mostly because I’ve already read a lot on productivity. But this one actually made me pause and rethink the way I structure my time. And if I’m being honest, I kind of needed that.
I’ve always been someone who likes systems. I like planning, making things efficient, and getting the most out of my day. Call it a personality trait—or a coping mechanism—but I’m happiest when I’m growing. Moving toward something. Progress is peace to me.
But a few months ago, I was struggling with focus. I even wondered if I had a little ADHD. Maybe I do. Maybe we all do now, in this age of constant pings and pulls for our attention.
I talked to my doctor about it and tried a low dose of Adderall for about a month. It helped. But I realized I didn’t want to rely on medication long-term—not for me, at least. (No judgment to anyone who does. Truly. I barely like taking ibuprofen, so it was more of a personal line than a universal truth.)
That started a little self-experiment.
The 15-Minute Rule
I made a list of everything I wanted and needed to do in a day—around 16 to 20 things. (Yeah, I know.) Then I asked: What’s the minimum I could give to each of these tasks to feel like I touched them?
Answer: 10 to 15 minutes.
So, I gave myself permission to just touch everything daily. No pressure to finish. Just engage. After a couple weeks, I noticed I was getting around 70% of it done most days—around 12 out of the 16 tasks. But more than that, I felt good. I wasn’t burned out. I felt accomplished.
Even the things I didn’t get to felt okay. I wasn’t neglecting them entirely anymore. I was at least staying in relationship with all the things that matter to me, even if just a little.
Diet, Energy, and Flow
Around that same time, I also noticed that my meals were too heavy. Not unhealthy, just… sleep-inducing. So I lightened them up—especially carbs—and that helped me stay more awake and alert in the middle of the day. I started feeling more in sync with my energy waves, which brings me back to Hyperfocus.
The book breaks down attention into different modes:
- Scatterfocus: when your mind is loose, fluid, and open to ideas.
- Hyperfocus: when you can lock into a task with deep attention.
That framework helped me understand my own rhythms better. I realized I wake up early—around 4am—but my brain isn’t ready to hyperfocus just yet. Instead, that early morning window is where my most creative ideas show up. It’s scatterfocus time. So I stopped trying to do heavy tasks then. Instead, I write music. I journal. I just flow.
By the time 8am hits (and the coffee kicks in), I’m ready to lock in. That’s when I do the more technical work—like composing arrangements, editing projects, or building systems. That block usually runs from 8am to 2pm. That’s my zone.
Knowing Your Attention is a Superpower
The biggest thing I’ve taken from Hyperfocus is this:
Your attention is a resource. And you don’t have to be in “beast mode” all day.
Now I structure my day around these attention zones:
- 4–8am – Creative flow and light exploration
- 8am–2pm – Deep work and technical execution
- 2–6pm – Research, ideation, and loose learning
- Evening – Practice, reading, or wind-down activities
I don’t follow this perfectly. I leave room for grace, for family, for interruptions. But having this structure helps me stay connected to what matters without burning out. It also helps me feel like I’m growing—and that’s really the core of it for me.
If I go a whole day without moving something forward—even just a little—it doesn’t feel like a good day. But now I have more ways to define progress, and more space to be human within the structure.
So yeah—shoutout to Chris Bailey. Hyperfocus reminded me that I don’t have to force my brain to do what it’s not built to do. I just need to partner with it.
Resources:
Explore more of Chris Baily’s work: Website
Buy the book here: Hyperfocus – How to Manage Attention in a World of Distraction - Scatterfocus: when your mind is loose, fluid, and open to ideas.
- The Moment Isn’t the Problem
Learning to stop fighting what’s not actually fighting you.Sometimes I catch myself spiraling—not because something is wrong, but because I’m worried that something might go wrong. Or I’m annoyed that the present moment doesn’t feel the way I think it should.
But as Michael A. Singer writes in Living Untethered:
“One of the most amazing things you will ever realize is that the moment in front of you is not bothering you—you are bothering yourself about the moment in front of you.”
That hit me.
We often confuse what is happening with what we’re telling ourselves about what’s happening.
The moment is rarely the enemy—our resistance to it is.
So today, I’m breathing. Letting the moment be what it is. And choosing not to bother myself about it.
Thanks for the reminder, Gus.
Resources:📖 Living Untethered by Michael A. Singer
🌐 Learn more about Michael A. Singer
- So Far, Not Yet — and Why Worry Anyway?
So Far, Not Yet — and Why Worry Anyway?
A reflection on presence, progress, and handing it over to Gus.
The Practice: Shipping Creative Work has been one of those books I’ve enjoyed slowly. I read it like a live devotional—just a page or two at a time, enough to shift my perspective and send me back into the day with purpose. It’s not about getting through it. It’s about letting it work through me.
One section in particular, on worrying, reminded me of something my mom used to say all the time:
“Why worry if you’re going to pray? And why pray if you’re going to worry?”
That line has never left me.
Worry, to me, is one of those things that steals energy from the work. I can literally feel myself spinning mental wheels, imagining all the things that could go wrong—and I have to stop and remind myself: None of that has happened yet.
It pulls me out of the present. And the present is the only place Gus (God, Universe, Source) actually hangs out. Gus is never in the imaginary “what ifs.” Gus is here. Now.
So I hand over the worry. That’s God’s territory.
And I get back to the journey.
Because, like Seth Godin says in The Practice:
“You haven’t reached your goals (so far).
You’re not as good at your skill as you want to be (not yet).
You are struggling to find the courage to create (so far).”
Reading that felt like a breath. A truth I didn’t know I needed.
And honestly? Am I ever really there?
If life is this continuous spiral of becoming, there’s always more growth ahead.
So rather than chasing some final destination, I’m choosing to stay grounded in the “so far” and the “not yet.” That’s where the work lives. That’s where faith lives. That’s where presence lives.
So I’ll use this time wisely—stay present, do the work, and trust that what’s meant for me will unfold when it’s supposed to.
So far. Not yet. Still going.
Resources
📚The Practice: Shipping Creative Work by Seth Godin
- The Apprentice & The Invisible Ink: Finding Your Own Creative Voice
A Story About the Creative Journey
Where do great ideas come from? Every artist, musician, and writer starts by learning from others—copying, remixing, and ultimately discovering their own unique voice. This is the journey of Niko, an aspiring musician searching for originality in a world filled with influences.
This story explores the lessons behind “stealing like an artist” and how creativity is not about inventing from nothing but about transforming what has come before into something new.
The Copyist’s Journey
Lesson: “Steal Like an Artist”
Niko had always loved music but never felt original. Every time they sat at the piano, the melodies felt borrowed. They would listen to their favorites—Stevie Wonder, Richard Smallwood, and Jon Batiste—trying to recreate their sound. Yet, something was missing.
One day, an old producer known as The Archivist overheard Niko struggling and chuckled.
“You sound like a ghost trying to sing through someone else’s voice.”
Confused, Niko asked what that meant.
“Before artists become artists, they are copyists,” the Archivist explained. “But the trick is knowing what to steal.”
He handed Niko an old book filled with invisible ink.
“Inside this book are the greatest compositions never heard. But to read them, you must first copy.”
“Every artist gets asked the question, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ The honest artist answers, ‘I steal them.’” – Austin Kleon
The Art of Remixing
Lesson: “Copy, but make it your own”
For weeks, Niko traced the faint outlines of old compositions, playing them note for note. The Archivist would shake his head each time.
“Close, but still a shadow,” he would say.
One day, frustrated, Niko accidentally played a wrong note—and something unexpected happened.
The ink on the page shifted and revealed a hidden layer of the composition, a melody that hadn’t been there before.
The Archivist smiled.
“You don’t want to look like your heroes, you want to see like your heroes.” – Austin Kleon
“Now you’re beginning to see. You copied, but in your mistake, you made something new.”
Finding the Invisible Ink
Lesson: “Find your influences’ influences”
Determined, Niko decided to dig deeper—not just copying but researching who inspired the legends.
They traced Stevie Wonder back to Marvin Gaye, Richard Smallwood back to Donny Hathaway, then Jon Batiste back to Mahalia Jackson, and many more.
With each layer uncovered, the ink in the book became clearer.
Finally, one day, Niko sat at the piano and played something new. A melody that was made up of the ghosts of past compositions, but undeniably their own.
The Archivist handed Niko a blank book.
“Now it’s your turn to leave ink for the next apprentice.”
“Start copying what you love. Copy copy copy. At the end of the copy, you will find yourself.” – Austin Kleon
Final Thoughts & Creative Takeaways
Niko’s journey is the journey of every artist. Before originality comes imitation. Before uniqueness comes influence. Creativity is not about making something out of thin air—it’s about remixing, learning, and evolving.
Key Lessons:
- Copying is the first step – Every great artist starts as a copyist.
- Mistakes lead to originality – The moment you add your twist, the work becomes yours.
- Know your creative lineage – Find out who inspired your inspirations.
My Personal Reflection
The hardest thing for me has never been the idea or the desire to create—it’s the doing. I used to get lost in the sea of “What does my voice even sound like?” I’d sit in front of my instrument or notebook, wanting to create something meaningful but feeling like everything had already been done.
Reading Steal Like an Artist reminded me that my voice isn’t missing—it’s layered. It’s a collection of all my favorite artists, storytellers, and moments, wrapped in my own lived experience. The originality isn’t in avoiding influence. It’s in allowing it to pass through me and transform into something honest.
This story was my way of processing that. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder for all of us: our voice becomes clearer the more we trust it’s already there.
Shout-Outs & Resources
Special thanks to Austin Kleon for the inspiration. His book Steal Like an Artist continues to spark creative awakenings everywhere.
Explore more of his work here: https://austinkleon.com
Buy the book here: Steal Like an Artist
Watch the Soul Reflection
Creative Inspiration: Steal Like an Artist
If this story resonated with you, I’d love to hear what artists or moments shaped your voice. Let’s keep the ink flowing.
- Thanks Gus
Thanks, Gus (aka God, Universe, Source…and everything else of course)
Recently, my work life has shifted. My supervisor—someone I adore and see as a wealth of knowledge—is moving on to greater pursuits, which she totally deserves. I’m so happy for her.
At the same time, we had layoffs at work. While I’m grateful to still be employed, my team is gone. I’m the only one left, and now I’m being restructured into another department. So of course, I’ve started wondering: What’s next for me?
I know how I’d like my life to be structured, and in some ways, this job fits that. But I don’t see growth on the horizon anymore. And growth is a major motivating factor for me in anything I do.
So, I asked Gus, “What do I do now? More importantly, what should I move toward next?”
A lot of ideas came to mind, and I spent about an hour after work thinking them through—only to realize they were my thoughts, not necessarily Gus’s. So, I took a step back and said, “God, lead the way. Show me what direction I should be heading in.”
Sometimes the best thing I can do is take a nap and reset my mind—because the spiral of overthinking is real. Lately, though, my naps have been more focused. What I mean is: before I rest, I ask God a question. It’s become a bit of a practice, an experiment.
I’ve gotten it down to about 20 minutes—just enough to dream, and usually whatever I dream holds a hint of direction. Not always an answer, but a direction.
In this particular dream, I was working in what looked like my clothing store. A customer walked in and asked, “Can I get that t-shirt?” I said, “You want the Ecclesiastes 1 t-shirt?” and they replied, “Yes.”
Then I jumped out of my sleep, thinking I had overslept and needed to go pick up my kids—but I hadn’t. I think Gus woke me up just so I’d remember the dream.
So I woke up with “Ecclesiastes 1” on my mind. Odd, right?
I’ll be honest—I’ve been back and forth with reading the Bible. I read a lot of things where I still see God clearly, so I never feel disconnected. But I had recently said I needed to start reading scripture again. Maybe this was full circle.
On the way to pick up my kids, I opened the Bible app and listened to the first few chapters. “Everything is meaningless” kept echoing in my mind—which, strangely, felt true and freeing.
But the question I had posed to Gus wasn’t just about meaninglessness. I was asking whether I should move toward something I enjoy (not necessarily love) or do something that makes sense.
Here’s something I’ve come to understand: creativity and work don’t always mix well.
Gus has given me a creative vision for my life, and I’ve accepted that I’ll always have to do both—create and work. That’s the beautiful balance of God.
Hugh MacLeod calls it the “Sex and Cash Theory” in Ignore Everybody.
Sex is the creative work—what lights us up, what some call “the muse.”
Cash is how we survive.
They don’t always mix, and that’s for a reason.
If we were creative all day, we’d probably get tired of it. Our brains also need structure and logic. That’s why artists can burn out. Their creativity becomes “work,” and it dims the spark.
So maybe the separation keeps the spark alive.
Back to Ecclesiastes. As I listened, I was reminded that everything is fleeting, and we all return to dust. So we should find joy in our toil—especially when it’s pleasing to God.
“A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without Him, who can eat or find enjoyment?
— Ecclesiastes 2:24-25 (NIV)
That hit me.
And as soon as I heard it, I knew what Gus was saying. It wasn’t an answer. It was a direction.
God doesn’t give final answers. They give direction. Answers feel like an ending. Direction keeps things moving.
I want God’s direction, not an answer.
I don’t plan on stopping my growth.
All this to say—there’s something I enjoy that I’ve left sitting in the back of my mind. It didn’t seem “fruitful” in a money-making sense. But I realized it’s something I could pursue with a bit of effort. It’s a new skill set—but if I can learn to play piano, sing, write, and compose at 34? A few courses sound like light work.
Like King Solomon said—it’s all meaningless anyway. So I might as well find joy in what I do.
Yes, I’ll have to work. But I can also enjoy the process.
And my creative work? I enjoy that immensely. I’m finding a beautiful balance in this life.
Thanks, Gus.
- The War on Art: My Reflection on Resistance and the Creative Battle
Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles
“The humanist believes that humankind, as individuals, is called upon to co-create the world with God.” – Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
I just finished reading The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, and let me tell you it was a slap in the face in the best way possible. This book, written from the perspective of a professional creative, lays out the stark reality of what it takes to overcome the invisible force that keeps most people from doing their work: Resistance.
For me, this book hit especially hard when I realized Resistance wasn’t stopping me from singing or practicing piano. Those are already ingrained in my daily life—non-negotiables, things I’ve programmed into my routine. Writing, though? That was another story. Not because I didn’t want to, but because starting was the struggle.
The Resistance We Face
Pressfield defines Resistance as that internal force that keeps us from doing the work we’re called to do. It shows up as procrastination, self-doubt, distractions, and even self-sabotage. And it never goes away. If anything, it gets stronger the closer we get to something important.
“Resistance defeats us. If tomorrow morning by some stroke of magic every dazed and benighted soul woke up with the power to take the first step toward pursuing his or her dreams, every shrink in the directory would be out of business. Prisons would stand empty. The alcohol and tobacco industries would collapse, along with the junk food, cosmetic surgery, and infotainment businesses.” – The War of Art
This passage in particular stood out to me. It made me wonder: What if we actually showed up for ourselves every day? What if we consistently fought through Resistance instead of letting it win?
Showing Up Like a Professional
One of the biggest takeaways from the book is the difference between an amateur and a professional. An amateur is overly identified with their craft, they fear failure, hesitate to start, and get stuck in the highs and lows of the creative process. The professional, on the other hand, treats their work like a job.
“We do not over identify with our jobs. We may take pride in our work, we may stay late and come in on weekends, but we recognize that we are not our job descriptions. The amateur, on the other hand, over-identifies with his avocation, his artistic aspiration. He defines himself by it.” – The War of Art
This is the mindset shift I needed. Resistance wants us to treat creativity as something light, easy, and fun—but the reality is that showing up every day, no matter what, is what separates those who succeed from those who don’t.
What I’m Taking Away
- Action beats inaction, every time. The best war tactic against Resistance is to move. Do the work. Start. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be done.
- Resistance is confirmation. If I’m struggling to begin, that probably means I’m moving in the right direction.
- Creativity is work. The only difference between this and a traditional job is that I happen to love what I do.
So now, I ask myself daily: “What work are you willing to struggle with every day, D?” That’s where the real battle is won.
Final Thoughts & Why You Should Read This Book
If you’re someone who has ever struggled to sit down and do the work whether that’s writing, creating, building, or even starting a new habit—this book is a must-read. Pressfield lays it out plainly: Resistance is real, and it’s relentless. But if we treat our craft like professionals, we can overcome it.
This is one of those books that I’ll be returning to again and again. If Resistance is a daily occurrence, then the lessons in The War of Art should be as well.
Read The War of Art: Buy Here
Learn More About Steven Pressfield: Visit His Website
This reflection is just the beginning. What’s the work you’re willing to struggle for every day? Let’s talk about it.
- The Detour
The Detour
Life is full of unexpected detours. Sometimes, what seems like the best way forward ends up teaching us the most about trust, patience, and timing. Here is a story about one such detour.
The Setting: A Special Family Road Trip
The hum of engines stretched into the horizon as The Traveler tightened their grip on the wheel. Traffic was at a standstill, the kids were restless, and the GPS had just added another hour to their long-awaited trip to Grandma’s birthday. The Traveler sighed, scanning the line of cars and muttering, “There has to be another way…”This was no ordinary trip. It was Grandma’s 75th birthday, a milestone that the entire family had been planning for weeks. Gifts were stacked neatly in the trunk, the kids had their favorite snacks, and the GPS had promised an early evening arrival—just in time for dinner and the special toast in Grandma’s honor.
The Traffic Jam
The first sign of trouble came as brake lights flashed ahead, a slow ripple spreading back toward them. Up ahead, flashing lights and orange cones signaled an accident. Traffic stretched for miles, and the GPS adjusted, adding an hour to the trip.“Ugh, how much longer?” one of the kids groaned, kicking the back of the seat. The air in the car felt thick with impatience. Outside, the sun beat down, and the hum of idling engines filled the air.
A detour sign came into view, a quiet temptation. A few cars up ahead took the exit, bypassing the gridlock entirely. The road they took looked smooth and empty, like a lifeline in a sea of frustration.
The Tempting Detour
The GPS chimed again. “Stay on the current route.”Their partner stirred, glancing at the sign. “That detour looks like smooth sailing,” they said, half-sitting up. “Maybe it’s worth it?”
The Traveler’s grip tightened on the wheel. They knew the GPS was usually reliable—it saw what they couldn’t. But the sight of cars moving freely while they sat in gridlock felt unbearable.
“What’s the harm?” they muttered, convincing themselves it was the right call. With a quick flick of the turn signal, The Traveler veered onto the detour road, leaving the crowded highway behind.
The Unexpected Delay
At first, the decision felt brilliant. The road stretched ahead, empty and promising, sunlight spilling over hills that rolled into the horizon.But then came the sound. Thump-thump-thump. The Traveler’s stomach dropped. They slowed the car, pulling to the shoulder. As they stepped out, the culprit was immediately clear: a nail lodged deep in the tire, air hissing like a whispered warning.
Opening the trunk, The Traveler sighed heavily. The spare tire was buried beneath a fortress of luggage. The kids asked from the back seat, “What happened?”
“We’ll fix it,” they replied with forced calm, trying to mask their frustration.
They reached for their phone to call for help. “No Signal” blinked mockingly on the screen. To make matters worse, dark clouds began gathering, the first drops of rain splattering on the windshield. The once-clear detour now felt like a mistake, isolating and unnerving.
After inching forward slowly, they found a signal and contacted roadside assistance. “You’re pretty far off the main highway,” the voice on the line said. “It’ll take about two hours to get to you.”
The GPS route, though slower, would have had them safely past the traffic by now. Instead, the detour had added three long, frustrating hours to their journey.
The Lesson of Trust
As they waited in the car, The Traveler couldn’t shake the realization: the GPS wasn’t just giving directions—it was guiding them with insight they couldn’t see. Impatience had clouded their judgment, making them trust what felt faster over what they knew was reliable.How many times do we do the same in life? When The Guide, like the GPS, asks us to trust their timing, we so often create our own detours—shortcuts that seem better but lead to unexpected challenges and delays.
A Question for Reflection
The next time we face a delay, will we trust The Guide who sees the bigger picture? Will we stay the course, even when it feels slow, or will we take the detour and risk setbacks we never anticipated?
Let this story be a gentle reminder that sometimes the best path is the one that requires patience and trust. The Guide knows the road ahead, and even when the way seems uncertain, staying the course can lead us to our destination—whole and right on time.