Depth blocks with a door
A focus block is a promise to a single artifact: a paragraph, a schematic, a reconciled sheet. Start by naming the artifact out loud or on paper — speech and handwriting recruit different attention than typing subject lines. Close everything unrelated; if you fear losing a tab, bookmark it with a boring title so future-you is not seduced by mystery.
Timers help not because time is always correct, but because they create a shared truth between intention and fatigue. When the timer ends, decide consciously: extend once, or close with a one-line status note. Unclosed blocks leak into evenings.
Attention debt and recovery
Focus methods fail when recovery is absent. Short breaks should be sensory — water, window, stairs — not another cognitive feed. Think of recovery as part of the work product: a musician tunes; a craftsperson sharpens. Your mind also needs honing.
Batch shallow work so it cannot colonize depth. Email and messaging respond well to tight windows; they expand to fill any unbounded space you give them. The method is not contempt for correspondence — it is respect for the cost of switching.
Environmental honesty
Sound, light, and seating matter more than apps. A decent chair and predictable light reduce micro-discomfort that masquerades as distraction. If you share space, negotiate signals: headphones mean “unless fire,” a note on the door means “until 11:12.” Clarity reduces resentment — and resentment is a focus thief.
