Focus and Flow

I first encountered the concept of “flow” some time ago—a state of complete immersion in an activity where time seems to pass differently, thoughts become unusually clear, and a sense of pleasure and self-worth emerges. Initially, I thought flow was a special state that only occurred when writing code or designing, but I gradually realized it can exist in any scenario that demands focus: reading, taking notes, organizing materials, or even planning a day’s work.

I’ve tried various methods to “trigger” flow. Sometimes it’s just a cup of coffee—a simple ritual that helps me adjust my state and begin focusing. Interestingly, this small action isn’t the key itself; rather, it signals to me that “now is the time to focus.” Once I’m in that zone, time becomes flexible, thoughts become clear, and the process of completing tasks itself becomes a pleasurable experience—as if I’m realizing my own value while enjoying the journey.

Recently, large language models have become incredibly popular. While discussing them online, I noticed a phenomenon: some people say that using AI actually makes it harder to enter a flow state. The reason is intuitive—the more convenient the tool, the higher the likelihood that the rhythm of decision-making and execution gets interrupted. When every step can yield an answer quickly, you unconsciously scatter your attention, losing that deep, immersive experience. I’ve also tried observing this in my own work: when looking up information, generating text, or organizing thoughts, over-reliance on tools makes my mind jump around, making it difficult to sustain prolonged focus.

This got me thinking: flow isn’t about efficiency for efficiency’s sake; it’s about having a sense of control over your own thinking, a sense of participation. The existence of large language models isn’t contradictory—it simply reminds us that when using tools, we need to leave ourselves some space for “independent exploration,” keeping the rhythm of thinking and action manageable. When you clearly know which tasks require your deep thought and which can be handled with tools, it becomes easier to enter flow while maintaining a sense of enjoyment.

I’ve come to realize that flow isn’t really mysterious. Every time you fully immerse yourself—whether in writing notes, reading, or organizing ideas—you’re having a conversation with yourself. You feel time flowing differently, and your thoughts become exceptionally clear. The key is that once you recognize this, you naturally start arranging your work and study in a way that makes flow not just an occasional spark, but a sustained state of focus. It’s not a task; it’s your way of enjoying thinking and creating.