A journaling exercise: when do you feel most “in it”?

Part I: The Poetry of Immersion

There’s a scene in The Color Purple—not a climactic one, not one filled with drama or music swelling—that lingers. Shug Avery, barefoot in the tall grass, turns to Celie and says, “I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.” It’s a line about reverence. Attention. Presence. But more subtly, it’s also about flow—the kind that doesn’t arrive with a timer or a productivity hack, but with surrender. Shug isn’t urging Celie to produce, she’s inviting her to be.

This is the beginning of flow: the shift from control to communion.

When we talk about flow in everyday language, we often mean getting things done—being “in the zone” at work, in rehearsal, on a run. But flow’s roots are older and deeper than corporate psychology. Across cultures, there are quiet words for this immersion. The Japanese speak of shibumi—effortless perfection. The French, joie de faire—the joy of doing. In Sanskrit, lila means divine play. These are not expressions of hustle. They are recognitions of harmony between the doer and the doing.

Think of a gardener planting seedlings in spring. She isn’t thinking of quarterly KPIs. She’s watching the light, feeling the soil, listening to the rhythm of her breath and the rustle of wind through nearby trees. Time stretches. Identity fades. There is no audience, no evaluation—just participation. In those moments, we become what we are doing. The dancer is the dance. The writer becomes the words. The cook dissolves into flavor, gesture, and heat.

That is the doorway to flow: the disappearance of self-consciousness.

This is not to say that flow is always easy. It asks much of us. It asks for presence. And presence requires the courage to let go of control. You cannot fake flow. You cannot multitask your way into it. It resists agendas and rewards sincerity. The paradox is that flow often arises when we are most aligned with our purpose and least attached to outcome. It thrives in that mysterious space between care and surrender.

And yet, many of us miss it. Not because we are incapable, but because we are trained to override it. We praise busyness. We equate urgency with importance. We forget to walk slowly through the proverbial field and notice the color purple.

This week, we return to noticing.

The Flow Inventory is not a quiz or a diagnostic. It is an act of remembering. Of tracking not what makes you efficient—but what makes you feel whole. In doing so, you begin to collect data points about your own soul. You start to see when and how you lose yourself—in the best way possible—and how those moments can become guideposts for building a life that feels alive.

Part II: Flow by the Numbers

According to a global survey conducted by McKinsey & Company, executives who report spending more than half their time in a state of flow are five times more productive than their counterparts. That same report found that increasing time in flow by 15–20% across a workforce can double overall creative output.

The psychological benefits are just as compelling. A study published in The Journal of Positive Psychology in 2021 found that people who regularly enter flow states report 73% greater life satisfaction and 85% increased clarity of purpose. Additionally, a neuroscience analysis led by Dr. Arne Dietrich demonstrated that flow reduces activity in the prefrontal cortex—commonly called “transient hypofrontality.” This neurological quieting is associated with reduced self-criticism and heightened confidence.

Flow isn’t limited to elite performers. In a 2023 Gallup workplace report, employees who experienced daily flow were 67% more likely to describe themselves as engaged and resilient. Even ten minutes of focused immersion, according to MIT’s Human Dynamics Lab, can improve emotional regulation and reduce decision fatigue.

Flow impacts health as well. Cortisol levels—a key stress hormone—drop by up to 30% in individuals entering flow states during moderate physical or creative activity, based on research from Stanford’s Mind & Body Lab. And individuals who engage in immersive, expressive acts like painting, writing, or gardening show improved immune response markers over time.

In short, flow is not indulgent. It is instrumental.

Part III: Your Flow Inventory

To discover where your flow lives, begin to document moments when time disappears. You’re not seeking grandeur—you’re seeking resonance. Use the prompts below as a daily journaling ritual this week.

  • When was the last time I lost track of time in a good way?

  • What was I doing, and what was the environment like?

  • Was I alone or with others?

  • What tools, conditions, or rituals supported the experience?

  • How did I feel afterward?

  • How could I recreate that condition tomorrow?

Over time, a pattern will emerge. That pattern is your personal map to immersion.

Celebrate what you find. Your creative self isn’t elusive—it’s just waiting for you to remember where it feels safe, supported, and real.

Today’s Invitation: Try answering one prompt from the inventory above. Even a sentence or two will begin to build your map. Where do you meet yourself most fully?

📍 Share your reflections using #LucivaraCreative
🔗 lucivara.com
© 2025 Lucivara. All rights reserved.

Next
Next

Day 171: Flow Without Outcome