In a regular movement, the paintbrush went back and forth. Spreading the paint in even strokes.

Once in a while, the paintbrush moved back to a previous spot, spreading paint where it was missing, taking up paint that seemed to stay on top of the wood.

All in an effort to spread the paint as evenly as possible.

The more I painted, the more I paid attention to how it spread, to the way the wood was reacting to the paint and to the effort I had to put into every single stroke.

The wood was teaching me how to use the paintbrush and how to spread the paint.

Sure, I wanted to paint the whole floor, but it was clear that that would eventually happen. I was painting after all. One stroke after the other. The result would be taken care of by the process of painting.

I was focusing on the quality of the work. It meant to look at the change I was creating and to stay aware of how it was happening.

Learning from every single stroke I was discovering how to change the quality of my work. But not only that, I was discovering how every stroke was a new experience. The paintbrush contained more or less paint. The wood was soaking up more or less paint. It meant to adapt every stroke to its context and the situation.

Focusing on the moment and the experience connects with an attitude of curiosity and learning.

It’s very different from focusing on getting it done, which connects with repetitive and mechanical work.