I need to find another project to work on, maybe get started early on the ole winterization, resume the basement finishing, something, anything to occupy my mind.
I was a never really a believer of “flow” or being in a “flow state” until I experienced it firsthand. My last experience wasn’t exactly recent but I do recall it vividly.
I need to get back there, it would do me some good.
Without getting too deep in the psyche, the flow state is what you experience when work or the task at hand is effortless and timeless. Outside distractions vanish, the mind relaxes, breathing slows, focus increases and hours pass like minutes. You wouldn’t know though, because the clock is irrelevant, you never look at it.
If you have been there you know.
If you haven’t you should seek it, relentlessly.
It’s different for everyone, musicians, writers, artists but applies just as equally to carpenters, mechanics even pilots.
For me personally…
It starts with a sunny September afternoon, mild temperature, puffy white clouds and a slight breeze out of the south.
I open the garage door and turn on the radio. It is tuned to my favorite listener supported commercial free radio station playing local artists and everything from classic country to my beloved 80’s. It never disappoints.
A muted afternoon baseball game is on the TV, an antique Westinghouse floor fan from the 1950’s that once rested in my grandparent’s living room slowly turns in the corner as if it was eternally linked to the casual cadence of music filling the air.
I back the Tahoe out and take a moment to sweep the floor. I move just as slowly as the music.
I am soon doing some routine motorcycle maintenance, nothing major, changing the oil, checking the tire pressures, cleaning the chain, topping off fluids. Even though they don’t need it, a quick wash is next of course. Hand toweled dry.
I pull my Coleman sling chair with matching cupholders to the edge of the garage, allowing the music and swaying trees in the distance to take me back to my childhood….
I instantly smell two cycle pre-mixed fuel and see the bright green fender in front of me as I stand on the pegs. Through the gears I go……..2nd……..3rd……..left foot wanting 4th badly but I am out of time and the edge of the dried up pond behind our neighborhood appears.
The bright green Kawi launches off the edge.
The parched, cracked dusty terrain fades below, the blue sky closer, a few seconds that feel like minutes. I nail the landing (of course, duh…) and quickly downshift back to 2nd not wanting to lose any of that precious momentum. Time it just right and a nice rooster tail will punctuate your effort.
A quick wheelie ensues and I try to figure out just how much additional room I need…on the next run….to actually be able to grab 4th gear. That would be epic.
The song changes on the radio to something I don’t recognize and I am brought back to reality.
The glistening Ninja in front of me was manufactured 15 years after that recalled memory was first created.
Even more ironic, the Ninja itself was manufactured 15 years ago.
You just spanned 30 years in about 30 seconds.
I smile, let out a brief half chuckle and a half sigh. I shake my head, place both hands on both knees and spring to my feet, spring being a relative term these days.
A new song plays and I reach for a clean lime green terry cloth towel to wipe the bike down. It doesn’t need a full blown polish per se, a few sprays of quick detailing mist should do the trick.
When the job is complete, I roll the bike back into place and settle right back into the same sling chair.
The shadows on the driveway have shifted a bit and a new song is playing. I remember it word for word.
Just like the last twenty.
I casually glance over my left shoulder at the baseball game. Oh wow they’ve put up a few runs I say to myself as I try to recall what the score was to begin with.
I look over my right shoulder at the clock.
Three hours have passed.
Welcome my friend, to the flow.
The Finance Stance 