I grew up hearing the phraseΒ βyou never stick with anything, whatβs the pointβ a lot. Iβve always been attracted towards seemingly disconnected interests, and gone through phases of being reallyΒ into something. But eventually my interest would fade and I would move onto something else.Β
Or at least thatβs always how itβs been phrased for me, by others. Now I realize that my interest for the old thing didnβt fade so much as my interest for something new outshined it, and thatβs vastly different.Β
I was always made to feel bad about it, with every abandoned endeavour I was told I needed to stop starting things if I wasnβt going to stick with them. I was told I was wasting time and money picking up these random interests and abandoning them after a year.Β
So eventually, I stopped picking things up. I told myselfΒ βwhatβs the point, Iβm going to give up in a year anywayβ. Even worse, I started dismissing everyΒ new interest, because I had no way of knowing if my interest wasΒ βrealβ enough or just another passing phase. I stopped trying new things, I stopped looking up stuff that piqued my curiosity, and having chronic depression made it really easy to leave everything on the dirty floor of neglected ideas. The more they piled up, the more depressing it was. All these things that could be nice, but I just canβt take care of them.Β
I realize now how bullshit that kind of thinking is. So what if I stopped doing karate after a year? Thatβs one more year of karate than most people I know. And in that year I learned discipline, I learned to listen to a teacher, something I had never done before in all my years of private education. I learned the true meaning of respect, that itβs something you do out of faith at first and maintain as itβs reciprocated, not something you do blindly and regardless of how youβre treated.Β
It gave me the foundation for the determination and grounding I needed to practice yoga. Another year. Not enough to be good at it maybe, but again a year more than most people I know and a year that is not lost, but gained. I learned balance, I learned to listen to my body, I learned how to let go of emotional tightness through physical stretching.Β
And then iaido, only a few weeks because I couldnβt afford to keep going. The year of yoga I had done a couple years previous had given me a better starting point than the other newcomers to the class. I already had balance, I had strength in my legs and I had better posture. In those months I learned the importance of precision, the true definition of efficacy, the zen state that is incessant repetition.Β
Did I practice long enough to get good at iaido, and yoga, and karate? No. Of course not. It takes years to become proficient and decades to master any of those things, but I learned other skills and those skills were an invaluable part of my growth both spiritually and emotionally. Likewise for my forays into painting, sewing, graphic design, film. Iβm a photography student now heading into my second year of school, and every single second of practice I have in those other disciplines has given me more experience in those areas and made learning easier.Β
Skills carry over. They intersect and connect in ways that are sometimes unexpected. Nothing is ever lost, experience is never a waste of time or worthless or stupid. Allow your focus to wander, reflect on what you learn, and consider how you can keep using it in other aspects of your life. Stop telling people their interests arenβt worth their time.Β
dailybridgerton
dededos
romaincrisis
titsay
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
