When meditation is mastered, the mind is unwavering like the flame of a lamp in a windless place. ~Bhagavad Gita
There are occasions when I enter ‘the zone’. When I get into a focused mindset and time slows down, time ceases to have meaning, time ceases to exist other than the singular entity that is now, time ceases to have bounds defining existence. In an instant, an hour passes, hours pass, the day moves from dawn to dusk in the time it takes to breathe a breath, in the time it takes to utter a word, in the time it takes a heart to beat.
It is similar to being in your comfort zone but at a level of deeper intimacy, a place where you are one with universal existence, an existence that is all encompassing of time and matter yet an existence that exists solely in the realm of what you can see and feel yet know not that you have thought or feeling. It is a point in the space time continuum where concentration is fully engaged for hours without deviation, without a loss in focus, without a loss in energy. It is a transcendent state, a mystical state where one does not experience anything but total oneness with the activity at hand. It is a state of complete and total absorption. It is a slice of heaven, an ounce of nirvana, an enlightened existential state. It is akin to devout prayer, to focused meditation.
This is not a place one can choose to go. Once cannot say, I am going into the zone and be magically transported to supreme concentration. I find I most frequently get into the zone when pursuing my hobbies which, for me, are a place of intense self actualization.
There are times when I am out fishing on the big waters in Central Canada, casting my tiger striped Suick toward the shore line, retrieving with the jerk technique that attracts the ferocious Northern Pike when time stands still and I am one with the wind, the water, the sun, the rhythm of my body.
Many times I have been writing, writing my blog, writing a personal essay, crafting words to create pictures, crafting words to capture the essence of ideas hovering at the periphery of my consciousness and sip my hot tea to find it has turned ice cold in the hours that have passed while the words marched across the page and created a work of personal art.
I fondly remember starting wood working projects in the afternoon then opening the garage door to discover it is night. I was so in tune with my creation that I had even forgotten to eat yet felt no hunger, only the satisfaction of birthing my work of art.
In the past 5 months, I have frequently found myself entering the zone while at my day job. I have occasionally, in the past, entered the zone at work but never with any consistency. Lately, though, I have been entering the zone with increasing regularity. Not a week has gone by in the past two months where I have not hit the zone at least a few times each week. The adrenaline release I have been getting at work is such that I was excited about returning to work after my vacation in Turkey.
My interludes in the zone have not been day long affairs because, as a Manager, I regularly attend meetings which, by their very nature, require nonzonal interaction. I have been hitting the zone primarily in the evenings when I work on the materials for the Leadership Training Program I am developing.
I am thoroughly enjoying creating this program, creating the materials for the program. I am enjoying the research, the carefully designed outlines with which I am not happy until the ideas flow seamlessly in the PowerPoint presentation. I am enjoying crafting the words and finding pictures that illustrate those words. I am enjoying putting together words and pictures that complement each other in the explanation of the ideas I am trying to instill in my students. Then, I enjoy, presenting the information to the students eager to learn about leadership.
I guess, most of all, I love making a difference in the lives of my students and, because the subject I am teaching is leadership, knowing people I will never meet will benefit when my students apply their skills and lead others.