Finding Flow
The sun shone down on me, while my body left a trail of sweat behind. In that moment, I don't recall thinking about pedaling, I don't remember steering, nor do I remember smelling the mustard growing in the fields beside me. All I remember is gliding on my bicycle, free from thought or effort. Such is the effect of a "flow state," a term coined by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. You lose yourself in the moment and become so immersed in the activity that the chatter inside your skull fades away. It's the optimal experience. These experiences leave you speechless, yet you remember the vivid thoughts that subconsciously cross your mind during that moment of meditation.
As a kid, I came across Apple's iPod Touch. I had used a touchscreen device before, but this one felt different. The materials were superior, the weight was perfectly distributed, and the glass was actually glass. Most importantly, it felt like an extension of my body; I instinctively knew how to use it. With its capacitive touchscreen responding to the flicks and pinches of my fingers, it just worked. But what makes it work so seamlessly? Such that I achieve another moment of flow, where I don't have to think about what action to take, I just do it. Unbeknownst to me at the time, design had the power to change how we experienced the same technology. History has repeatedly taught us this lesson. Sony didn't just create portable cassette players with its Walkman, it ushered in an era of personal electronics with its innovative design choices. Generative Pre-trained Transformers were already existing technology, but a user-friendly way to interact with them turned ChatGPT into the world's fastest adopted product.
The iPod captivated my imagination. Sketching phones and their interfaces became a habit; I would often do this on the back of my notebooks to relieve stress while preparing for exams. Following this obsession and walking in the footsteps of one of my heroes, Jony Ive, I enrolled in an Industrial Design program. I had no formal knowledge of art or design, only an innate curiosity and the courage to take a leap. Design college was challenging and taught me valuable lessons. The dynamic environment allowed me to explore my passions. I took classes in subjects outside my curriculum, from graphic design to accessories design, and read as many books as I could from our extensive library to expose myself to varied design disciplines and philosophies. I focused on identifying my strengths and discovering what I enjoyed the most.
This journey introduced me to Interaction Design. There was something mesmerizing about the internet and the ability of my creation to transcend borders and reach someone across the globe at the speed of light, all through strings of ones and zeroes. The prospect of creating something that could be instantly served to millions and rapidly iterated on with next to zero cost was liberating. I spent nights building and debugging my first website, not because it was an assignment but because I had entered a flow state. Nothing else existed—just me, my canvas, and the new drawing materials I had just discovered. As I hit publish, I watched the website float in the vastness of the internet, accessible to everyone. The shattering of barriers filled me with hope, and I never looked back, only forward to the endless possibilities and the beginning of infinity.
Doing great things in life is hard, and enduring hardship for prolonged periods requires a passion for what you do. I discovered mine by following my curiosity through a series of explorations and experiments. One day, I hope my work will inspire another kid on the opposite side of the globe to become curious about our world and why certain things are created the way they are. I want them to find what they love, what makes them flow.