There's a big difference between feeling relaxed and feeling focused.
The two can certainly go hand in hand, but I've never found that simply trying to calm down is a particularly effective way of dealing with a busy mind.
If I'm feeling anxious, restless or full of nervous energy, telling myself to relax rarely makes that energy disappear. If anything, becoming conscious of how restless I feel can sometimes make it worse.
I've found it much more useful to give that energy somewhere to go.
Rather than trying to suppress it, I try to channel it.
That's an idea that sits at the heart of Focus Lab, and it's also the thinking behind something slightly different I've been working on: the Focus Lab playlist.
Calm and focus aren't quite the same thing
When we talk about concentration, we often seem to imagine an incredibly serene version of it.
A perfectly tidy desk. A cup of herbal tea. Gentle lighting. Perhaps the sounds of distant whales singing to one another.
And sometimes that's exactly what you need.
But I'm not sure focus always feels like calm.
Some of my most productive periods have quite a lot of energy behind them. I'm engaged, moving quickly and bouncing between ideas. There's momentum.
The challenge isn't necessarily getting rid of that energy. It's pointing it in the right direction.
That's particularly true for me when my ADHD brain is feeling restless. Trying to squash that feeling and manufacture a state of perfect tranquillity can feel like fighting against myself.
I'd rather work with the energy that's already there.
Giving the energy somewhere to go
This is one of the reasons I've always fidgeted.
If I'm listening carefully to someone, I'll often have something in my hands. If I'm thinking through a problem, I'll fiddle with a pen. During meetings, I might find myself turning something over between my fingers without really noticing I'm doing it.
My hands are occupied, but my mind can stay with the thing that actually matters.
I've started thinking about music in a similar way.
Music gives some of that internal energy a rhythm.
It can create movement without requiring you to physically go anywhere. A repeating beat or melody can provide a kind of structure around whatever you're doing.
For me, the combination of sound and tactile movement can be particularly useful. My hands have something to do, my ears have something to follow, and somehow that can make it easier for the rest of me to settle into the task.
Not necessarily calmer.
Just more focused.
I've tried the the whales
I've experimented with plenty of supposedly calming audio over the years.
Whalesong.
White noise.
Binaural beats.
Rainfall.
Ambient soundscapes.
Various recordings that sound like you're simultaneously inside a Scandinavian spa and floating through space.
Some of them are lovely.
But I've found that calming audio is only one part of the puzzle for me.
Sometimes I don't want to remove all the energy from the room. I need something that shaves the sharp edges off it, then gives what's left somewhere useful to go.
That might begin with something gentle and spacious, but eventually I want a pulse.
A rhythm.
Something that makes me want to keep moving.
Focus can be a sensory experience
This has made me think more broadly about the environment we create when we're trying to concentrate.
We tend to treat focus as something that happens entirely inside our heads.
But our surroundings matter.
The light in the room. The sound around us. The objects beneath our fingers. The smell of coffee, wood, paper or whatever else happens to be nearby.
Sight, sound, touch and smell all contribute to how a moment feels.
This is part of what interests me about tactile objects in the first place.
A piece of solid wood beneath your fingers feels different from a plastic phone screen. A mechanical switch provides a physical response. A dial gives resistance as you turn it. A particular piece of music can completely change the atmosphere of a room.
Individually, these are tiny things.
But put them together and you can create something closer to a ritual.
Headphones on.
Phone away.
Something tactile within reach.
Music playing.
Start.
It's not a complicated productivity system. There are no points, streaks or dashboards.
It's simply a collection of small sensory cues that tell me: this is what I'm doing now.
The Focus Lab playlist: Music to Focus to
With that in mind, I've put together a playlist inspired by the same ideas behind Focus Lab.
It's just over 90 minutes long, which feels like a good amount of time for a proper focus session. Long enough to get into something meaningful without turning the entire day into an endurance event.
But I didn't want to simply collect 90 minutes of generic background music.
I've tried to give the playlist a shape.
It starts gently, with sweeter harmonies and spacious, soothing sounds that give you a little room to arrive.
From there, the energy gradually builds.
Orchestral textures begin to mix with electronic sounds. Rhythms become more pronounced. Retro-futuristic synths and driving pulses start to introduce a little more momentum.
The intention is to move from settling in to getting going.
And then to flow.
Towards the end, the music becomes more expansive and optimistic. I wanted the final tracks to feel less like slowly drifting to sleep and more like emerging from a productive session with some energy left.
A beginning, middle and end.
A small audio journey through a period of focused work.
Music you can work alongside
Choosing music for concentration is surprisingly difficult.
Too interesting and you start listening to the music instead of working.
Too repetitive and it becomes irritating.
Too relaxing and, frankly, I start wanting a nap.
The sweet spot for me is music that has character without constantly demanding attention.
That's what I've tried to find here.
There are moments of beautiful orchestration, gentle ambient passages and melodic harmonies, alongside more mechanical electronic rhythms and pulsing synths.
Some tracks sit quietly in the background.
Others gently push you forwards.
The common thread is that they create an atmosphere without asking you to stop what you're doing and pay attention to them.
Finding your own focus ritual
I'm increasingly sceptical of the idea that there's one correct way to concentrate.
Some people need silence.
Others need a busy coffee shop.
Some people want white noise.
Some need techno.
Some sit perfectly still.
Others need to move.
The interesting part is noticing what works for you.
Focus Lab isn't really about telling people how they should focus. It's about exploring the small physical rituals, environments and objects that can make it a little easier to find your own version of it.
For me, that's often a combination of things.
A clear desk.
A hot coffee.
Something satisfying to fidget with.
And music.
Don't fight the energy. Use it.
Perhaps that's ultimately what this playlist is about.
I'm not trying to create 90 minutes of perfect tranquillity.
I don't necessarily want to feel completely relaxed when I'm trying to make something.
I want to feel engaged. Present. Curious. And moving forwards.
Sometimes the restless energy is useful. It just needs pointing in the right direction.
So rather than trying to silence everything, perhaps we can give some of that energy somewhere to go. A rhythm to follow. Something for our hands to do. A small ritual that marks the beginning of a period of intentional work.
That's the kind of focus I'm interested in.
Not perfectly still.
Not completely quiet.
Just centred enough to put your energy into something that matters.
