From the moment I started using social media, my life took a drastic turn—and not for the better. I lost focus. I stopped fully committing to anything and instead began nibbling at bits of everything. Social media became the gateway to a scattered existence, and I found myself adrift in a sea of distractions. I now believe that in this century, one of the greatest skills we can cultivate is focus. First, the ability to focus. Then, knowing what to focus on.

Washing dishes taught me this lesson. It may seem mundane, but it was a moment of clarity for me. I was so immersed in the act of scrubbing and rinsing, so present in the repetitive rhythm, that everything else faded away. Nothing around me mattered. That moment felt profound. It was as though I had found the essence of being—to be deeply engaged in the present moment. To focus in the twenty-first century is, I believe, the greatest asset one can have.

Whenever I have achieved something I am particularly proud of, it has been thanks to my ability to focus deeply on a single pursuit. But then social media entered my life, and my focus began to unravel. In high school, I attended a school where phones were forbidden. Back then, I didn’t even own a phone. I excelled academically, largely because I was present in every moment. My school friends remained at school, my home friends remained at home, and I lived fully in both worlds without feeling torn between them. Anime, one of my favorite pastimes, was reserved for weekends or special moments at home. My life had structure, and it worked without my needing to consciously maintain it. I was thriving.

Then I got my first phone. It wasn’t a smartphone, so the change was gradual at first. But soon came the smartphone, Facebook, and endless scrolling. I started using the internet to keep in touch with school friends whom I would already see the next day. I searched for more anime, stumbled upon countless other distractions, and soon my attention was pulled in every direction. Then came my first computer, which only expanded my access to the digital world. I was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The pain of this realization runs deep. When your attention is scattered, you become average. I completely lost focus. Social media multiplied my distractions—Facebook, animes, unnecessary friendships, the endless pursuit of relationships, even pornography. I fell into the trap of thinking I needed to have whatever everyone else had. And if I couldn’t have it, my self-esteem plummeted. This was a recipe for misery.

Looking back, I can see how my life unraveled. By attempting to be everywhere, I ended up being nowhere. My focus dissolved, and with it, my sense of purpose. The structured, vibrant life I once had was replaced by a fragmented existence. I chased fleeting pleasures and superficial validation, losing sight of what truly mattered.

The irony is that the solution has been within me all along. That moment of washing dishes taught me the beauty of focus. When I was immersed in that simple task, I found clarity and peace. Now, I’m working to reclaim that state of being. It’s not easy—distractions are everywhere—but I’ve realized that focus isn’t just a skill; it’s a way of life.

To focus is to live deeply. It’s about choosing presence over distraction, purpose over noise. In a world designed to pull our attention in a thousand directions, the ability to focus is revolutionary. It’s the key to excellence, fulfillment, and self-discovery. And I am determined to master it once again.

I’ve successfully removed Facebook from my life for years, Instagram for a year, and Twitter for a month. While I still occasionally browse YouTube, I find myself distracted by anime videos, a passion I’ve had for a long time. My goal is to use anime constructively, as a form of relaxation rather than as an escape. The internet has been instrumental in helping me discover mentors and expand my knowledge. Without it, I might not have found the guidance that’s been so valuable.

However, I’ve realized that one distraction leads to another. In this age of abundance, as Naval Ravikant puts it, our modern-day challenge is not the lack of information but the overwhelming abundance of it. This creates the temptation to get lost in distractions, making it harder to stay focused on what’s truly important.