The Focused Pour
These last few years have been, eh! They’ve been a thing. I have experienced so many new things. As a result, I am a well stimulated individual. Ok… Overstimulated. The way that I deal with overstimulation? Shutdown. What I am really trying to say is: For the last five years or so, I have been overstimulated. They say that rest day is training day, but I haven’t really been able to rest. The end result? I feel like I have poured it all out. Empty. This last year I have managed to create a business that broke the six figure mark. In our first year. The year of 2020. My business partner and I… We did that, in the middle of a pandemic. I have even figured out how to fill myself back up. While outputting at a high level, in uncertain times. Starting a business is the definition of uncertainty in uncertain times. It’s interesting, sitting here. Writing, reflecting and processing. Hoping that the words I share inspire somebody. The truth is, before I was able to navigate this level of chaos, I spent almost a decade learning to operate in pure chaos. It was an arduous education. I poured myself out and made room for more. Again, and again, and again. There is no right way to do this. Learning to navigate the unknown. The truth is, being human is an unknown variable. Nothing has brought this home more clearly than covid. If I didn’t know that life couldn’t be controlled before, I do now.
I still try though. So will you, why? Because we are human, that’s why!!! And that is perfectly normal. But it’s late and I digress. So what is this “Focused Pour”? The answer is simple. I have spent my lifetime learning to navigate the unknown. Finding out what lights me up. Thrills me and gets me super pleased to be alive. In the process, I have only been able to hold onto a limited number of threads at any given time. Now I am living in a time of convergence. A time where each of the myriad pieces of my life are coming together in one place. One of the pieces that I have honed to a razors edge is focus. As a carpenter of 18 years, I learned how to focus. Construction is one of the few working frontiers where real risk exists in the work place. I loved that about my trade. There is something calming, knowing that if my attention falters for one second, I could be plunged into chaos. Physical risk was real. I feel alive when I walk a 2x4 wall, carry plywood up a steep roof, or race a friend to see who can build a wall the fastest. I took pride in my prowess, especially in edgy and physically uncertain situations. There is something that comes alive. A resourcefulness that lies dormant. Something primal, waiting to be discovered. I miss that.
Inevitably a moment arrives, maybe not daily, but at least weekly. One that requires pure focus. One lapse in attention and the consequences could be costly. For myself and others. There is a brotherhood that is formed in such a moment. As a meditator and yogi, these moments allowed me to draw on the full focus of my training. This allowed me to navigate risk that most others shied from. I call it the razors edge. I found it putting my life on the line. Over and over and over again. Relentlessly. Honing my attention, focus and consciousness. This was my real reason for working as a carpenter. the real reason I stayed in the trade for nearly twenty years.
It’s funny, as I write I am listening to one of my favourite bands singing about being masters of intention. Which brings me to my next point. Neuroplasticity. As we get older, we grease the grooves. We repeat basically the same basic algorithms in our lives. Over and over again. So I created rhythms. Systems and mindsets that allowed me to “work hard and play harder”. And I fucking played. I had a great time. Dancing, climbing, and…
20 years is a long time to lay down a neuro pathway. What I loved about my career was the ability to access the razors edge whenever I wanted. ON Demand. On and off the clock. I’ve lost that, and I miss it. What I am coming to realize is that I have a new task. I utilized my physical environment to wake up something latent. Something primal. Something underutilized by modern man. That chapter is closed now. I segued into project management. I used project management as a bridge into starting a business. And a movement. A global movement. Yet I have lost the razors edge. I discovered that I am dependent on my external environment. Circumstances. When the environment losing they element of physical taxation and risk, something in me curls up and goes to sleep. My attention is scattered. Focusing on everything and nothing at once. The result of this scattered attention is nothing. zip, zilch, nada. Sweet fucking nothing. (and of course I am being dramatic for dramas sake) The stage has been, as they say…Set!
Now you know where I am. Today, right now. In my life, there are a lot of people talking about their “words” for 2021. I thought about it. A lot. Two words came to mind. Focus and pour. Focus means to reclaim the razors edge. To hold that edge at all times. To access it on demand. Regardless of circumstances. To walk into my office and know that the level of the space has risen. Because the razors edge walks with me. Sheathed or unsheathed, it is a presence that can be felt by others. Just as it’s absence has been felt by me. Pour refers to the unwritten words scrolling across my soul. The things that I have left unsaid. Pour reflects my desire to release all of the unspoken, brilliant, genius ideas trapped inside me. To open the flood gates and share my gifts with the world. A “Focused Pour” refers to the combining of two states into one. To pour myself out in a focused, measured and purposeful way. To be unrestrained, primal and raw. Uninhibited focus. Awakened desire. the lightning rod of truth. A force that is so focused it rips through the shared consciousness of humanity. With precision and grace. A balanced force. True sobriety. Tune in for part two, coming soon.