How to lose yourself in the moment

Losing yourself in the middle of a fun activity is what psychologists call “flow.”

You could be hammering nails into plywood, playing guitar, or peeping into a microscope. Any activity that allows you to lose track of time qualifies.

Long before psychologists caught on, Buddhist monks mastered the art of losing oneself as a method of self-improvement that brings a smile to practitioners’ faces.

Since I experience “flow” through writing, I thought I would illustrate the experience through this week’s column. The first ingredient is inspiration. I let the concept of flow bounce around in my brain for a week while I researched the topic from different angles.

I read a few Time magazine articles on the brain, I read psych students’ papers, surfed onto mental health websites and reread Buddhism books from my bookshelves.

In order to experience flow, you need to be an expert on the task at hand. It has to be second nature. If you need to stop the process to read sheet music, you won’t achieve flow by playing the piano. So, step two is laying the groundwork.

Once the foundation’s in place, make sure to have a sufficient hideaway – for me, it’s my office. When I close my door I don’t hear the TV or the phone.  Others may need a sewing room, a garage with power tools or a basketball hoop. You need somewhere that feels encouraging to you.

I like to be free from distractions. Others may find different environments induce creativity like being outside watching kids play or having music playing in the background.

Once I’ve had my spark of inspiration, done my research and sat down to write, there’s only one thing left – the fun part. When ideas are flowing, I can’t type fast enough.

Although I am the author, I can’t wait to see what comes out. This is the experience of “flow.” It’s what people mean when they say they are “in the zone.”

As a column comes to its crescendo, there’s an “AHA!” moment. It’s here that an epiphany is revealed. Although it may seem like the epiphany is written for the benefit of readers, I have to admit, it isn’t. The epiphanies are for me.

What I enjoy most about writing is the learning process that is necessary to do it. The “AHA!” moment is when the knowledge gained falls out onto the page. Flow requires a final product.

It can be the purr of a rebuilt engine, the last button sewn on a kid’s costume, or the final note of a composition – as long as you can step back and see what you’ve created. If you’re lucky, you’ll also spot something to improve upon for next time.

What makes a story good?

Learner.org proposes that the following ingredients are needed.

“Literature gives order to human experience. Literature explores cultural values. Literature demands an emotional response from the reader,” and finally, “Like a great journey, literature can show you things you have never seen before and will never forget.”

Don’t these requirements for a good story also sound like the recipe for a good life?

It’s a happy person who knows where he belongs, is strong in his beliefs, interacts deeply with those around him and has experiences that stretch his imagination.

But there is so much to see and do on this planet that you could never experience all of it in one lifetime. That is where the usefulness of stories comes into focus.

A newspaper can tell you instantly what Bangladeshis did yesterday. A poem by Robert Frost can stop you in the tracks of your busy life long enough to examine your feelings; a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. can give you strength.

Stories can be fuel, roadmaps or solace depending on the needs of the reader.

There are many different kinds of stories out there and everyone learns from them, even those who “don’t like to read.”

Like the urban legend that teaches us to check the backseats of our cars for axe murderers when we’re parked in deserted lots at night.

Then there are the tales that get passed down through the families like hand-me-down clothes, bits of wisdom that get passed along so that future generations can have better lives.

We’ve all heard about the long, hard hours our grandparents put in so their kids could have better lives, or the long walks our parents endured each day without complaint just to get to school.

Whether they are urban legends, family histories, myths, poems, novels, news articles or history textbooks, stories are important for many reasons.

They can be exhilarating or informative. They can also be psychologically necessary.

It was recently reported in the New York Times that mental health professionals believe people construct their identities from the stories around them.

People also use narratives to fix their problems and plan their futures. How people interpret stories around them influences how they relate to others.

On a larger scale, stories shape nations as the myriad of rags to riches tales produced so many self-made men the cliché is considered to be a quintessential American experience.

The lucky gimp, part 2 (why my disability was a good thing)

If there were a sliding scale of misfortune it would show that amongst my compatriots with disabilities, I am on the luckier side. I walk somewhat stiffly with a cane. It's a look that the TV character House made cool for a while.

Compared to others I have known, (people with no use of their arms or legs, people who have no arms or legs, people who can't speak, etc.) many would be happy to limp a mile in my shoes.

Since sports weren't the best fit for me, most of the joy in my life came from things that I did with my mind. I played music and bonded with musicians. I wrote poetry and made my living as a writer.

Equal parts psychology, art, philosophy and family, I have to admit my column is a quirky one. The idea from the start was simple: Newspapers are filled with bad news. Why not write about the things people do to make themselves happy?

When The Joy of Life was picked up by 27 newspapers I discovered that I was not alone in my desire for good news.

I made it a point to learn along with readers each week. Columns came from experiments, like dialing random phone numbers to connect with strangers, or conversations with celebrities, friends and family that showed the bonds between us all.

Interviewees seemed to enjoy it as well. People like Bill Cosby, Steve Martin and Daryl Hall did their best to come along for the ride as we explored life’s more meaningful moments.

The first column ran seven years ago, right before Christmas. Thank you for reading along and exploring with me.

I am not done yet. But I want to let you know how much writing for you has meant to me. It has given me a deep sense of pride, and I count it as one of the many ways in which I am lucky.

What makes a story good?

Learner.org proposes that the following ingredients are needed.

“Literature gives order to human experience. Literature explores cultural values. Literature demands an emotional response from the reader,” and finally, “Like a great journey, literature can show you things you have never seen before and will never forget.”

Don’t these requirements for a good story also sound like the recipe for a good life?

It’s a happy person who knows where he belongs, is strong in his beliefs, interacts deeply with those around him and has experiences that stretch his imagination.

But there is so much to see and do on this planet that you could never experience all of it in one lifetime. That is where the usefulness of stories comes into focus.

A newspaper can tell you instantly what Bangladeshis did yesterday. A poem by Robert Frost can stop you in the tracks of your busy life long enough to examine your feelings; a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. can give you strength.

Stories can be fuel, roadmaps or solace depending on the needs of the reader.

There are many different kinds of stories out there and everyone learns from them, even those who “don’t like to read.”

Like the urban legend that teaches us to check the backseats of our cars for axe murderers when we’re parked in deserted lots at night.

Then there are the tales that get passed down through the families like hand-me-down clothes, bits of wisdom that get passed along so that future generations can have better lives.

We’ve all heard about the long, hard hours our grandparents put in so their kids could have better lives, or the long walks our parents endured each day without complaint just to get to school.

Whether they are urban legends, family histories, myths, poems, novels, news articles or history textbooks, stories are important for many reasons.

They can be exhilarating or informative. They can also be psychologically necessary.

It was recently reported in the New York Times that mental health professionals believe people construct their identities from the stories around them.

People also use narratives to fix their problems and plan their futures. How people interpret stories around them influences how they relate to others.

On a larger scale, stories shape nations as the myriad of rags to riches tales produced so many self-made men the cliché is considered to be a quintessential American experience.