I have a laundry list of things I don’t like about myself. A list that only empties after a good yoga class or some clarity brought on by near death. (I realize that this doesn’t make me special.) At the top of this list is my inability to be consistent.
“But you keep this blog.” “But you’re in a long term relationship.”
Ok, yeah, I can maintain a relationship and hold down a job. But what I’m talking about today is hobbies, interests, activities. Stuff that defines people and categorizes them and makes them new friends. I don’t have this. I am a 27-year-old without any real hobbies. Over the years I have started, played, tried out and then quit, abandoned, and lost interest in the following: softball, soccer, clarinet, singing, painting, pottery, ultimate frisbee, writing plays, skiing, snowshoeing, ballet, tap, gymnastics, swimming, boxing, meditation, volunteering with kids, hosting radio shows, watching football, drinking gin, tanning, and smoking.
Yes, smoking. I couldn’t even form a habit with the most addictive drug out there. I tried in high school, I tried in college. It just didn’t stick. I smoked all the time but never liked it and then one day I got bored and quit. Fed up with my inability to form an addiction.
I need to abuse myself before I pick anything up as a hobby. Take writing, for example. I had to force myself to write every single day for a YEAR before it became habit. 365 days of competition with myself. The same thing goes for plucking my eyebrows, shaving my legs, and putting lotion on after I shower. I have to hate myself enough for not doing them to actually do them.
I am a queen of lists and notebooks. I have monthly to-dos, weekly to-dos, work to-dos, writing to-dos, next two hours to-dos… the lists are endless and they lay scattered all over my two desks and without them I think I would just sit on the floor drooling into my lap. The lists keep me going and I am so glad I remember to do them. They make me endlessly happy.
So… I’m inconsistent and I don’t have any hobbies and I wish I did. I wish I had a team or a group or something to do other than sit behind a keyboard or a pen and drone on about myself and words and images. I’ve always stressed about this. (And I know I am veering into navel-gaze land right now but, like, I’m Millennial, what do you expect from me?!) And then I realized that maybe I do have a hobby, a talent, a thing I love to do. And that thing is?
Trying new things. My inconsistency has me on a constant search for “my thing” and so nearly every day and definitely every week I try something new. I eat something new, cook something new, go to a new class, read something weird, challenge myself. Trying new shit makes me happy and none of it sticks because I am on the the next one, exploring, and imagining what’s next. There are so many things out there you can commit yourself to and I intend to keep trying them. Paddle boarding? Making my own sushi? Aerial Yoga? Korean-Indian-American-French fusion? I’m there.
And of course now I’m going to say this. I’m taking you with me. I’m not sure what the posts will entail but I can promise that I will be trying new things and introducing you to all the possibilities of the “things” out there. I always write about how I do it, now you need to be front row with me. There is so much to see and do and try! And if none of it sticks, I have to learn to be okay with that. Because they aren’t my thing. Being an inconsistent weirdo? That’s my thing.