Flow State

I’m writing this fresh from a technical screening. My first ‘infrastructure work’ in a few weeks. It’s reminded me I love what I do.

Otherwise, life has been brutal. I won’t dwell, but my time and energy have gone to things I’d never choose.

But one technical task has sent me back to my flow state. With that comes perspective. A realization that I’m deeply fortunate. That I’m anchored by a calling, by a loving partner, by a puppy and by old friendships which know me well.

I spent many years doing work I wasn’t passionate about. Work which didn’t leave me with pride or self-esteem. I juggled this work to make the transition into tech, renovating homes with a full-time course-load while tutoring on the side.

I did this out of a sense of obligation. If I didn’t show up - to work, to grade - no one else would. I was needed. The study - a system I’ve never deeply enjoyed - was my way out.

My reward was the occasional spark I could ignite in someone else while tutoring. I was far from the best version of myself through this, but my work was good. I learned to endure.

In the background, I got very good at pointless things. Strategy games. Short-form writing. Creative thought. I didn’t understand at the time, but in these activities I was rebuilding my sense of self.

But I was doing too much. Eventually it caught up with me. I dealt with burnout. I healed. I learned to reach out. I made the career switch.

When I met my partner, in my first proper ‘tech job’, I described myself as a cog. I was content.

Finally doing work I liked, meeting like-minded people. I was on the right path.

Together, my partner and I grew. We explored and savoured the beautiful country we came from on weekends. On long quiet walks, we reflected on how things were changing. As she graduated, we reluctantly jumped the ditch.

The time since has demanded more of us both than we expected. When we’re liked, people worry how they might keep us. When things are hard, people suggest we go home. Both sides remind us - we’re guests, we’re other. Our roots and our moral norms are far away.

My partner is the strong one - she’s learned to find people. Wherever we go, she draws them in. She knows how to be vulnerable. She’s always honest and always warm.

I’m learning, but I’m different. I know how to listen and notice. When I’m trying, I adapt myself; when I’m not, I show competence instead. My vulnerability is cautious. Hers is brave.

I find my bravery in the flow state. There, I’m not working for praise or a performance review. My mind is consumed with the task. I want to improve the process. I want to help my teammate. I want to deliver on our promises.

That’s where you’ll find the best version of me - on the job, mid-task, with my mind full. In that moment, I am most myself. That’s where my security is earned.

That’s how I know I’ll adapt, no matter the world ahead. Because I’m in the right lane. Because I’ll explore.

And when I go home, there’s a puppy waiting. She used to be a fearful wee thing, but now she’s bold and resilient. Every other dog is her best friend. People are buddies to check in with. The hard part is steering her away.

I taught her that, with my partner. In the middle of hard times. Just like I taught her every trick she’s learned - even the ones which aren’t tricks, which she does just to be naughty.

Sometimes she does everything I ask. Sometimes she deliberately ignores me, because she’s clever and wilful. And sometimes she does the thing I want before I’ve said a word, even when the thing is hard. That’s her flow state.

Like me, she’s found herself in the work. And now, she carries it with her.

I’m proud. She’s learning to explore too.