There's so little over which we have control. I frequently have to remind myself of the few things I can manage, chief among which is my own attention. I'll look at myself in the mirror and say "I am responsible for my own attention." I don't remember when I started saying this, but I'm fairly certain the mantra arose out of one of those tiresome "discussions" about the proper way to watch movies. Big screen or small? Celluloid or digital? With an audience or by your lonesome? Etc. Etc. I've had good experiences and bad ones, at home and elsewhere—it could be dependent on my mood, on the makeup of a crowd, on technical issues (again, on many things outside my control). Each experience is different, and there has never been, nor do I think there ever can be, a holy grail situation (which, paradoxically, doesn't mean we should stop striving for one). Some experiences are better, some are worse, many are just there. (Indifference is the real soul-sapper.) What's paramount to me in all these situations is that I fully give myself over to what I'm doing. It's easy to do that with movies; I'm wired in such a way that I click into them with little resistance. Probably because I've done it enough that it's now second-nature, habitual. But I think it's important to apply the lessons we learn doing the things we're best at to those areas of our lives that could stand improvement. In my case, for example, the attention I give to writing, where the sense of failure (much of it related to the paralyzing inability to even begin a project) is exceptionally pronounced.