Picture this. I’ve just found something I like to do – maybe that’s drawing, or collecting rocks that are a specific shade of blue, or collecting sixteenth century rag dolls. Doesn’t matter, this is it, this is the new hot thing and it’s got my attention and by golly, I’m going to die with the world’s largest collection of creepy dolls holding blue rocks and you can’t stop me.
But then a month goes by, or a week, and the excitement just … isn’t there anymore, or like that one time when I thought I was going to be a geologist and spent a weekend without finding any interesting rocks in my driveway and gave up after two days.
I’m not a jack-of-all trades; I’m a curator of abandoned hobbies.
Well, if you’re anything like me, these “locations” will sound familiar:
- The Gateway of Gusto
- The Plateau of Stagnation
- The Valley of Disillusionment
- The Wasteland of the Forgotten
Every. Single. Time I find myself starting down the path of a new hobby (with a couple of exceptions), this is invariably the path i follow. Seriously, I could draw you a map
There are two exceptions, two things that I “keep coming back to”, hobbies that don’t languish permanently in the wasteland, and that’s writing and drawing. While they do often end up spending a bit of time at the edge of the plateau, precariously perched upon a precipice, potentially plummeting into the shadows of The Valley, I seem to always return to the pen, or paintbrush, or keyboard.
But for everything else? The journey is the same.
The Gateway of Gusto
Hooray! This is so awesome! So much stuff to learn – I’m never sleeping again!”
me, on finding something new
The Gateway phase is that time when you’ve just stumbled on something new, and you immediately feel intrigued. I liken it to an emotional high – it feels like the dopamine and endorphins flow freely, and everything – both in the topic and in general life – is glowing with an incredible aura.
I get this unquenchable curiosity and infinite energy when pursuing this new topic or idea, and I want to discover everything there is to know about it! Because of this dopamine response, and this energy, I also tend to feel this desire, no… need to get started immediately, and never stop. This usually leads to hyperfocus and a strong sense of FoMo (Fear of Missing Out) if I don’t simply become consumed with this subject. I will also tend to feel incredible anxiety if I need to interrupt my work; thoughts like “I’ll forget what I was working on” or “What if this was the moment iI would have made that breakthrough‽” abound.
Oh, and everyone I know? I want to tell them all about it.
But eventually, that fervor starts to wane, and I find myself climbing to:
The Plateau of Stagnation
“This part is boring. I remember this being more fun! If I power through this, I’ll find that energy again”
me, one week later
Once I reach the plateau, I can already kind of tell that we’re sailing on a sinking ship, but I don’t want to believe it. Things aren’t moving as fast, and activities that were once exciting start to feel routine. I can languish on the Plateau for literally years. I have had actual points in my career where I stayed in the same place because I believed that I could just “power through it.”
The Skinner box is taking far more pedal presses to get me that tasty dopamine release!
I often find that i am trying to convince myself that “it’s just a phase” and “this will be exciting again”. Sunk Cost Fallacy becomes a real issue as well – that feeling of “I’ve already put forth so much effort here, I can’t stop playing Diablo now!”, but even that won’t hold up forever. At this point I’ve realized that I’m now in:
The Valley of Disillusionment
“I hate my brain! Why can’t you do what I want? Why can’t I be normal and be good at just one thing‽”
me, 15 years ago, after realizing that I no longer cared about circuits and electronics.
This one is rough. Once I’ve reached The Valley, I’m filled with thoughts like:
- “I’m useless. I can’t ever finish anything”
- “Why do I even bother, I’m just going to get bored”
- “What a complete waste of time”
In my experience, once something has reached the valley, it’s a one way street to The Wasteland; we’ve jumped off the plateau, and the cliff is too steep to go back up.
The two times in my professional career where I found myself in The Valley resulted in me almost immediately quitting that job, once without even having a concrete plan set up.
From here, it’s off to:
The Wasteland of the Forgotten
“I spent how much?”
me, if I were to be given a report of what I invested into wood burning when I was 15
The spark of life is gone, and all that remains is a formless husk of once-hopeful optimism and joy. A graveyard of ambition. Indifference and finality.
These once-great passions are used up and discarded, and all that remains is the receipts, or pending credit-card bill, or a pile of half-painted figurines.
Any attempts to re-engage are usually met with, at best, apathy, and at worst, outright derision or embarrassment. Friends, still engaged in the hobby, or genuinely curious where I am in that journey, ask loving questions only to be met with:
“Oh, yea, I haven’t had much time for that these days”
But wait, there’s a meadow!
You know where I want to be? This pleasant little place in between the gateway and the plateau – and I’m calling it the Meadow of Balance.
A place where temperance and exploration exist in harmony, where the natural order of maintaining interest moves between the Gateway and the Plateau, never fully succumbing to either extreme, It’s like fertile ground for the passions that make the cut, a place to foster interest and growth without ravishing the landscape.
This is a place where interests and skills can exist without the urgency of pursuit or threat of extinction. These aren’t the things that give the big dopamine hits, but usually are borne out of persistent practice or necessity. And while I might not be an expert at any of them, I often find myself returning to those passions when other things become overwhelming.
And I have “successfully” planted in the Meadow too! Some are quite successful, such as Python programming or cooking, and others somewhat less so, such as cycling. But once something is squarely in the meadow, and not in danger of sliding into the valley, I can return to it again and again, without feeling burned out.
The meadow is where I can realize the sustainable beauty of the pursuit of things that I truly care about, whether that’s because I sowed them here, or because they are a part of who I am. The dopamine kick might not be as awesome as The Gateway, but I’ve found a rhythm and beauty that I can enjoy time and again.
So – how have I gotten to The Meadow?
None of these are foolproof, and are wholly untested, but anecdotally, they have worked for me.
Navigating The Gateway of Gusto
When a new thing comes into my life, I make a point to take frequent breaks. I try to take a moment to evaluate the cost, emotionally, physically, and financially, and consider it’s value.
I seek to temper my exposure to the media, skill set, or activity by intentionally setting a reminder to break out. For a while I used calendar notifications and highly focused blocks of time.
Depending on the situation, I will set goals for myself for this task, and identify ways that I can measure the value this pursuit can bring to me.
Moving to the Meadow:
- Adjust pace to prevent burnout
- Make a point to regularly self-asses
- Find ways to remember that the world isn’t ending tomorrow and the urgency is not real
- Diversify with other interests to create anticipation and opportunities for rumination
Navigating The Plateau of Stagnation
When I’m squarely on the plateau, it’s time to make a decision. Am I going to continue to pursue this thing, or is really better relegated to the past as a minor obsession? And you know what? It’s ok to let things head toward the wasteland – not everything is worth pursuing.
Re-evaluate any goals I’ve set in the Gateway phase and see if I’m meeting them, or if they are still relevant. Honestly, I’m pretty terrible with remembering goals, so this usually results in an opportunity to move on from the hobby or media.
If I’ve decided that I like this thing and I want to move to the meadow:
- Revisit the core reason for enjoying the activity
- Seek outside input and guidance; a like-minded peer group with similar interests
- Find small skills or nuance to focus on for additional “wins”
- Create a routine
The Valley of Disillusionment and The Wasteland of the Forgotten
Once a passion, occupation, or hobby has moved into either of these places for me, there is no returning. I’ve either completely burned out, or been burned, by the topic so much so that there’s no recovering it.
But hold on. There’s something awesome here.
If any of this resonates with you, well, a) please let me know, so we can commiserate, and b) please recognize that everything that you have dumped in the wasteland is a part of what makes you, well, uniquely you. Many different interests, no matter how short lived, give you experience, wisdom, perspective, and skills that no one else has.
You have a diverse portfolio, not wasted time or resources.
You are a master of adaptation. The fact that you can consume so many different interests and discard them is incredible. Use it.
Not everything can – or even should – reach The Meadow, and that’s ok! For those that do, this is a sustainable space that encourages growth without fatigue, for the passions you want to enjoy forever.
Loss becomes learning. Everything serves a purpose. Even those things that end up in the wasteland.
Amen.