Extended Example of Changing Involvement

To clarify what involvement is and how involvement changes
at transition points, you can examine this account of an extended
work period during which involvement increases gradually for
some time, then decreases a while.
I have a speech I need to prepare. There's a feeling of dread.
It's Monday, and the speech is to be delivered Thursday. It takes
considerable effort to even think about getting started on the
script. I need to get it done, but I don't want to. I could avoid
the feeling of dread and the task of speechwriting, but I'm not
going to be that irresponsible. So I allow the feeling to be
there, and begin to make notes about the talk. The sense of dread
gradually dissipates.
I visualize myself speaking a few days from now, at a point
along a linear time line that extends from here in the present
to Thursday. I feel time flowing strongly and relentlessly in
the background. There's pressure and a subtle sense of anxiety
attending the flow of time. I could focus on the deadline up
ahead and the feeling of time slipping by, and make myself more
anxious, but I decide to let go of these unproductive concerns
and focus on the work. The pressure and anxiety about the deadline
gradually subside as I turn toward the work a little more.
After I get more of an outline for the talk, it begins to
feel like writing this speech is a kind of "thing"
that I have to do, something very separate from me, almost forced
upon me. I notice my feeling that it's being imposed from outside.
There's a tendency to take the idea at face value, to believe
it and react to it. But from another perspective it's clear that
no one is forcing me to do this. It's my decision. As this becomes
very clear, I relax a bit and think about what to do next.
Although the task is no longer just an idea to me, I still
experience the work from outside, as an observer who is not "into
it." The papers feel distant from my body. I am aware of
a lot of other objects in the room, as well as other things that
I have to do in the next few days. My energy is somewhat scattered.
The subject-object split and the scattered energy are recognized
as signs that there is an opportunity for more involvement in
the scenario. I could see these experiences as being normal,
but from past experience it's clear that they are common, yet
not "normal," and if I take them as being realistic
for this kind of work, the work scenario will not improve.
I write down some more ideas that I want to present, visualize
myself giving the speech, and check the list to see what is missing.
I write down a few more ideas. I feel a little puzzled about
the order of these ideas. There's some momentum to write more
ideas down as well as a draw to examine the confusion. I know
if I simply rush to put more ideas down, I may miss something
important. I face the confusion, and soon realize that a couple
of the topics would be better at a different place in the talk.
Things begin to flow a little more easily. Although time is
not passing so strongly from past to present to future, more
work "events" seem to be occurring every minute, as
if some other kind of momentum was accelerating. I reorganize
the list, then read the list from beginning to end, once again
visualizing giving the talk. At this point I am considerably
more involved in the work. I am not aware of other projects I
have to do, or other objects in the room. I am not an observer
separate from the work. In fact, there is only a slight boundary
that is sometimes felt between my mind and body and the papers.
When I am thinking, I am often not aware of any objects at all.
The quality of thinking is different also, not so much like "I"
am pushing the thoughts. Although a bit of effort is required
on my part, the thoughts and the work seem to flow somewhat by
themselves. And this is not just a feeling, I'm getting the work
done more quickly. The insight about rearranging topics clearly
came on its own, with no volition on my part. My feeling of time
has changed considerably. Time has only a subtle flow apart from
me and the work. I feel very little anxiety about time passing
toward the deadline.
Now the writing really takes on a life of its own. Ideas come
easily, and insights are frequent, surprising me again and again.
The material seems completely original. The process is creative
in the sense of presenting material that seems new and fresh,
not arising from any apparent source. I experience wonder and
awe at the process and the accuracy and value of the content
written. I feel good about being able to participate in this
process. Periodically there are little bits of pride that arise
as I congratulate myself on my improved progress. I have thoughts
about rewarding myself by taking a break. There seem to be more
points at which these interruptions and others are noticed. I
could take a break, but I know I would miss the strong flow of
the work and the fulfillment I am experiencing, let alone the
opportunity to get so much done so quickly. It is also realized
that congratulating myself on "my" progress doesn't
make much sense, since it doesn't feel like "I" am
the source of the flow. These distractions are noticed and disappear
very quickly.
There are no noticeable feelings of anxiety, fear, or pressure.
Nor is there a feeling of time passing. I am not aware of objects
in the room, nor of the work as a "thing" or project.
There is little felt separation between "my" mind and
the thinking and writing being done.
At some point, I get confused about the message I want to
get across in the speech. There's a strong tendency to avoid
the confusion, and a pull to continue the momentum of the work
and figure out what to write next. My mind starts to wander,
and I look at the clock and realize it's almost time for my favorite
TV show. I know this is the best time to do this work, but pretty
soon I'm thinking about how I might be able to finish my work
after the show is over and during my free time the next couple
of days. Yes, it seems possible! I think I have enough time.
With some subtle anxiety lurking in the background, I put my
work aside, and begin to watch the show.
The flow of work has stopped and time slips by quickly again.
While I'm watching TV, I'm slightly anxious, subtly aware of
what time it is and how much time I have till the end of the
show, when I'll return to my work. Watching television is not
a flow experience now, nor is it as enjoyable as I'd hoped it
would be. My mind is divided between the show and being aware
that I really want to do my work. I am self-consciously watching
TV here in the present, feeling anxious and guilty about a job
waiting for me in the future. My experience is divided into present
and future, into an anxious self and the relentless flow of time.
Besides anxiety, I also feel guilty or pressured about not getting
the job done. The scenario is complicated, with my awareness
divided, time partitioned into present and future, strongly ambivalent
feelings about what's happening, and a persistent sense of separation
between myself, the TV, and my work.
Copyright © 1995 by Steve Randall, Ph.D.