I’m in the zone a lot, well ‘my zone’ that is. Everything I do I seem to lose myself in it. I have little or no sense of time these days. In fact, if you put me in a situation where I have to meet a deadline, I can feel the wings stiffening up.
I developed the ability to lose myself, (though I didn’t call it that, I called it being present), because there were so many chores I had to do that I loathed that I simply had to find a way to carry them out and appreciate them.
So I began being present in the moment, just noticing how I was doing the task, what it felt like, how it smelled (beautiful laundry brought in from hanging outside on a warm day) for instance.
When I chop vegetables it has become almost therapeutic. My focus is entirely on the task, meticulously working through the vegetables, noticing their textures, colours and smells as I enjoy the moment.
I didn’t plan it this way, but all these things have become a form of relaxation and strangely enough, I no longer experience them as a chore.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Zone.”