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>The constant screaming and the running, along with chronic exhaustion, produce in him a state of low-level panic, which is also a state of acute focus. It is as if his thinking mind, his doubting and critical and interpreting mind, had shut down and been replaced by a simpler mechanism that serves the body. This is extreme, however, it strikes me as a mild version of operating a steam locomotive. While undertaking this activity, my brain is occupied with 3 things: How's the water? How's the fire? Are there any hazards ahead? Repeat ad nauseum. The water level is very critical. Too much, and you'll be piping water through the steam plumbing, which has the potential to be very destructive to the locomotive. Too little, and the structural integrity of the boiler could be compromised. The fire is the life of the locomotive. Too much coal can snuff out the fire. Too little coal and you may run out of fuel. Too much fire wastes fuel and water; too little, and there will not be enough power to move the train. With the small models I operate, there is always a hand pump to put water into the boiler, but on a full size locomotive, it's possible to be in a situation where you don't have enough steam power to put more water into the boiler, and as I mentioned before, if the water level gets too low, the structural integrity of the boiler could be compromised. A brain busy with the above tasks may fail to notice a train stalled on the tracks ahead, which could cause a collision. I often think of operating a model steam locomotive as a state of nirvana. This is an exaggerated notion, but who could be troubled when the fire's too hot, the water's running low, see anything of concern up ahead? And by the way, how's that water level? My point is that I think the monks might be on to something. |
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flow_%28psychology%29