When I was a music journalist I'd regularly get to interview big-name musicians, many of whom were heroes of mine.
I'd get nervous beforehand and plan out all my questions meticulously to make sure I sounded knowledgable and didn’t run out of things to ask.
During the interviews I'd often be so busy figuring out what I was going to say next that I'd totally miss what they said.
I’d realise they’d stopped talking and look up from my notes in a panic before launching into a completely unrelated question.
It would only be when I listened back to the recording later that I'd realise they'd offered me a really juicy opening that had gone right over my head.
Maybe it was a hint about a huge rift in the band or some other big headline-grabbing scandal I could have probed into if I'd been paying attention.
Years later when I’d been meditating for a few months I noticed I wasn’t in my head nearly as much as I used to be. It became so much easier to stay in the room and respond to what was going on rather than clinging to a plan.
Photo circa 2007.