So when restated, I don't disagree with all your arguments. I think your arguments lack clarity, and I think you're doing yourself a disservice by attempting to find correlation where there isn't any.

I'm not sure I was creating a barrier between the action and the enjoyment. I was, rather, exploring different ways of enjoying. I am surrounded by people who do not seem to me to reflect on their experiences. They move from experience to experience without pausing to look for patterns or to examine the effectiveness of actions or to examine whether the road they are on is taking them where they want to go.

So really, it comes down to what "reflection" means.

I would argue that what you're calling "reflection" is much more of a process than an action. It's something you always do - sometimes more, sometimes less, and most assuredly there are people who do a lot more of it than others. I think what got my hackles up was the notion that "reflection" is something you have to stop and do - rather than simply being aware of your surroundings and evaluative of the perspective between you and everything else. "In the moment" or "not in the moment" are not, to me, quantifiable things... so putting a percentage on it misses the point. Particularly when you consider that anything you've experienced can be reflected upon at any point in the future as many times as you want... and anything you HAVEN'T experienced can be as well.

"Experience" and "Reflection", by your definitions, are independent variables in my way of thinking. They are axes 90 degrees apart. They might not even meet at the origin. Attempting to tie the two together seems like forcing a relationship between the area of a right triangle and its color.

After all, some people wander through life doing exactly jack shit without reflecting on it at all - and some people are Thor Heyerdahl, building a goddamn canoe out of reeds and sailing it across the pacific so he can write a book about it. L'il story about Frederick Forsythe:

The author of Day of the Jackal did most of his research for his assassination of Charles De Gaulle in his head and in libraries, and it's an inordinately technical book. I would call that non-experiential but highly reflective. When he wanted to write a novel about a group of mercenaries overthrowing a small African nation, he got some of his buddies together and set out to overthrow Equatorial Guinea.

no shit.

I would call this a highly experiential and utterly non-reflective action - trying to start a goddamn war so you can write about starting a goddamn war is surely one of the least-examined ideas in the history of literature. Same guy, three years apart.

I just don't think you can put the two together in any sort of reasonable way and find a correlation. Attempting to do leads you astray from the nine-fold path to enlightenment.

or something.

I'll say this - there is nothing that makes you quite so reflective as having finished a Los Angeles commute on an Italian superbike.