Is blocking out your time blocking out your time?
I coach people on designing flowbased lives and for me that has, up until this week, been via a version of faux fluid regimental soldiering….
The word that’s bashing down my cranium this morning is ‘block’.
I’d block out my time,
like I’d block out the sun by sitting inside on my computer all day.
Vitamin D & Vitamin Free-dom deficiencies.
How does flow have anything to do with the art of the block?
My 90 minute blocks fucken’ sucked.
I rarely found 90 minutes of efficiency or expansive thinking.
It was within the manioca of these chunks that there would be flitting sprites or coherence, which is kewl (sometimes) as Huzzah — a breakthrough.
This isn’t a life of flow.
In fact, this is the beginning of a long ponder about blocks of any form as anti-Kairos.
Especially when that shit sandwich drops in to the bowl of tasks.
I just wouldn’t do it…
It’s here I invite to use your imagination.
Picture a penis.
Picture a penis in a turtleneck driving a Mercedes, top down down the highway.
Picture a penis in a turtleneck driving a Mercedes, top down down the highway getting stopped at roadworks.
You’ve just pictured a CockBlock…
This week I gave myself permission to delete those Cockblocks out of my calendar.
This week I allowed myself to enquire into the nature.
This week I started to really understand what ‘coming into a natural coherence with the universe’ is…
Paraphrasing my favourite definition of flow by Jiro Taylor.
Blocks be gone.
And perhaps in their place I start to listen out for how the Conductora (The divine Female fronting the orchestra of life — perhaps Mother Nature) was caressing the wind to guide the birds, bugs, plants and trees to play me a song.
The Conductora, her pulsing energy that’s all around us.
I think back to Turtleneck Penis.
The cockblock.
I empathise for him/me.
Does he take it in his stride or get angry at the blockage.
What if he listens.
The Conductora sending a signal that he should ditch the car and his clothes and maybe go hang with some real turtles.
So if you’re feeling a littler resonance with this.
Go forth, fuck those productivity hackers and rainbow calendars and delete the bellends.
