I hate this.

I do not want to do this.

What a waste of time.

All of these thoughts race through my mind.

Meanwhile, the clock on my coding interview test ticks away.

I am halfway through the second of four problems.

May as well give up now.

Wow, there was so much resistance. This was my first experience with such a strong desire to give up in a long time.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breath.

Just take a moment, I reminded myself.

A few breaths later I opened my eyes.

The same problem was still staring back at me.

A maximum high score of 50% looms in my mind due to the remaining time on the test. I knew I could not finish the final two problems.

I can still give it my best.

I delete my previous code, restate the problem to myself, and dive back in.

The following day, a rejection notice from the company whose test had given me such a hard time arrived.

When I saw the email I remembered the internal battle I faced. I felt grateful I could open myself up and give it my all.

If I had caught my mind in its thrashings earlier in the coding test, I likely would have progressed even further.

Does this mean the company would have moved me to the next stage of the interview process?

Not at all, but that is beside the point.

Whether or not the company green-lights me or not is an external event, and never under my control.

What I do have power over is:

* How I deploy my attention in difficult tasks

* How I engage with my emotions as they swell up in a fit of resistance to a scenario I hate

The irony is I created a scenario where I could take the test.

I seek out the opportunity to be thrown into that scenario. This is a part of hunting for a software engineering role, where timed tests are one step of the process for some companies.

Still, during the test, I forgot I wanted to be there. I worked hard to have the chance to take the test.

In a job hunt, this type of resistance is one I enjoy working through. Another challenge is when imposter syndrome strikes.

When I apply for a job, I seek a first date with a stranger. With the intention of getting into a long-term relationship, with their entire family.

Doing this tens or hundreds of times, there are many chances to chain my emotional state to the outcome of any given date. Either by riding the high of progressing through multiple rounds of interviews, or by drowning in the low of rejection from roles that appeared to be low-hanging fruit.

Then there are the glimpses of joy and surprise, when an interview offer comes through when I do not even have any memory of the company nor my application to them.

These moments are the outcome of the process, which for me includes spending hours each week curating, applying, and nurturing job prospects. My dedication to this process points to the inevitable success of landing a role, although it is not guaranteed, nor will it happen on the timeline that I necessarily think.

Each time I face an emotional state of resignation, my willingness is put to the test.

How badly do I want a role?

Am I dedicated to bringing this vision to life?

Or am I ready to resign at the first sign of difficulty?

By recentering myself amidst a swirl of turbulent emotions, I further my capacity to bring my vision to life. Both in that moment, and in future moments.

The more I show up to do the thing I deeply resist doing, the more my willpower grows.

If I loved doing it, then there would be no expansion of my willpower. In this way, my suffering was a gift.

I did not suppress how I felt about the situation, but I did stop fixating on my feelings.

This gave me freedom. To fully feel. To engage with the problem at hand, rather than losing myself in an internal dialogue about the future consequences of my difficulties with the test.

My ability to focus on my inhalations and exhalations for a few moments and become calm is a tool anyone can develop.

The next time you realize you are drowning in the feeling of not wanting to do something, remember that your breath is always there for you to return to.