I’m the kind of person who is constantly pulled in a million different directions, thanks to an overactive imagination and the curse of being able to pick up new knowledge and skills relatively easily. I used to fantasize about being the type of person that is interested in one major, beautiful, fascinating skill, or at least the type of person that is really, really good at one thing and one thing only. One look at my resume would be enough to tell you that I’m the exact opposite of that kind of person, and I often think of myself as too impatient, vision-less, and, basically, all over the place. Over the past six months or so I’ve challenged myself to reconsider these thoughts and embrace a life of indulging every demand of my curiosity without regret, at least for a year or two.
This period of my life requires cultivating a passionate sort of faith in the idea that no matter how random my interests and activities seem, every skill, experience, and bit of knowledge will matter someday. Along a crooked, crazy path, I’m going somewhere. There’s a good reason I’m drawn to certain things, no matter how silly or seemingly impractical, and I should assume that one day, that reason will become clear to me. I just have to keep repeating this thought, over and over.
I keep hearing friends say that they’re in a similar state of transition, where their passions aren’t stacking up one atop another in a neat little arrangement, but are instead pulling them in opposite directions and into lifestyles they couldn’t have imaged five years ago. It’s ok guys, keep up the dreaming.
I’ve also heard this from people well past their midlife crisis, people attending meetups for careers that are the polar opposite of their own, from bloggers confessing their secrets to the internet. Keep it up, everyone, keep it up.