There's a moment in Lenny's podcast with Julie Zhuo: two people staring at the same blank wall. One spirals into worry. The other notices what's actually there: the street outside, a bit of movement, their own breath. The difference isn't personality. It's the prompt they gave themselves.

An LLM with zero context hallucinates. Give it a clear scene and purpose, and suddenly it's useful. We work the same way. If I quietly label where I am, who I'm with, and what actually matters in the next ten minutes, the noise drops. I'm not chasing some mystical state. I'm just giving my brain a clearer starting point. The wall doesn't change. The prompt does.

For me, mindfulness is retrieval: pull a few real facts from the room before you act. A few things I see, a couple things I hear, and whatever I feel in my body. Then I set a tiny contract. On the floor with my daughter, the role is "play buddy," the rule is "no distraction" (I try my best), and "done" is "a moment worth telling my wife later." That little guardrail changes everything. It's hard, and I try.

At work, it's the same rhythm with different nouns: one task, one window, one clear finish line. I don't need to reinvent myself. I just need to pick the right temperature dial for the situation. Lower for deep work: same chair, same playlist, predictable groove. Higher for exploring or playing outside: different inputs, a bit of openness.

Context switching is where this breaks down. Every jump between tasks breaks the thread you were following. LLMs do this too: switch topics too fast, lose context, and need the whole scene rebuilt. We pay the same tax. Every switch forces a reset: what was I doing, where did I stop, what matters now?

Two fixes help. Batch similar tasks so you're not starting from zero every few minutes. And leave a breadcrumb when you stop: a single next-step sentence, a quick code comment, a small hint your future self can follow. Press play instead of reloading the entire episode.

The rest is choosing good inputs and kind rules. Not every voice deserves the front row. Mentors and anti-mentors are just a sorting exercise: who leaves me steadier, and who leaves me scattered? Keep the first group close. Turn the second down quietly.

Give yourself a few gentle policies you don't debate: no phone when engaging with your kids, no emails or Slack during focus blocks, and a short reset lap when the wheels spin. When I stall, I go for a run and reset: air, movement, a change in context.

The blank wall isn't a crisis. It's just an empty prompt. Feed it better details, protect your thread from needless switches, pick the right dial, and write the next line you actually want to live.