A wizards focus...
...can be a strong, soft thing. My wizards that hath emerged from different blizzards, please, remove the gems from thine eyes. The cut gems of the red dragons heart blind and conjure mythical tales oft that turn kind and joyous travelers on shared paths, into mirages of wisping demons.
Turn inward, mana shone into the heart of the wizard become the seed of the gem that grows into a World Tree.
Whether your focus comes in revelations of the magic wheels, the roaring grip of the Arcane Palm, the melding of mind with metal and mineral and wooden wields, and even in the depths of a wizards deific devotion, the heart of the wizard is where all the burning night comes to rest, to find peace.
A wizard may contemplate many things without stepping beyond his chambered walls. A wizard may meet the voice of a dying god, whispered on the softest winds, telling of time upon time. A wizard may meet the tendrils of a hungry, still far off, Hunger.
A wizard is a student of all things.
From one that resides within a tower