My experience with this feels more like going deeper and deeper into a particular mental state, where context switches out of that state break all of my abilities to pieces. The beginning of a book is harder than the middle or end of a book, because after a while I’ve picked up all the proper contexts and loaded them into memory. After reading a book of poetry, I can think and dream in poems. But switch the context too harshly, say, in the middle of a deep concentration task, and my brain is thrown for loops, has no idea where it is, and refuses to come up with a single action or word.
It feels almost like I’m wearing a groove into my neurons, a tightened pathway of everything aligned just right to handle a particular task, and then suddenly I get pushed out of the fast lane and into a ditch.
My experience with this feels more like going deeper and deeper into a particular mental state, where context switches out of that state break all of my abilities to pieces. The beginning of a book is harder than the middle or end of a book, because after a while I’ve picked up all the proper contexts and loaded them into memory. After reading a book of poetry, I can think and dream in poems. But switch the context too harshly, say, in the middle of a deep concentration task, and my brain is thrown for loops, has no idea where it is, and refuses to come up with a single action or word.
It feels almost like I’m wearing a groove into my neurons, a tightened pathway of everything aligned just right to handle a particular task, and then suddenly I get pushed out of the fast lane and into a ditch.