I know, I know. That makes no sense whatsoever. Sounds flat-out wrong, actually. Blasphemous, even, in this day and age.
But it’s not a typo.
Ever since I can remember—and maybe you can too—we’ve been told that the right thing to do is to finish what you start. It’s what our parents told us, then our teachers. Now, our bosses say the same. Our customers, our clients.
I get it.
And for most situations, it holds true.
Most.
But we can’t be all work and no play, right?
And the beauty of play is to have fun.
But a lot of us don’t play like we want to, have fun like we need to, because we’ve stopped being curious.
Why? Because we’ve come to view our curiosities with the same serious mentality we use in the responsible aspects of life.
When we’re curious—to try a new hobby, pursue an interest, or create something—the beginning whispers of curiosity turn into Mission: End Game faster than you can say “adulting”.
What this translates to: Watercolor sounds great, but I probably won’t get too far, so why start?
Or, The last time I tried photography, I used my camera for a month and it’s been collecting dust ever since.
You didn’t/won’t succeed. You didn’t accomplish much. You didn’t gain mastery. It felt like a waste—these are the thoughts your rational mind serves up on silver platters, like stiff upper-lipped waitstaff in impeccable tailcoats.
How about we give ourselves the freedom to not finish some things, just as we hold ourselves responsible to finish most others?
Your mind gets fired up for its own reasons, and they aren’t connected with accomplishments. Sometimes, neurons just want to have fun.
Let them dance.
But what about the shame of unfinished projects?
To that I say, you DID finish them. You followed an interest. You got excited about the idea of possibilities. You began the journey. And you went as far as you wanted to go, and stopped.
Why? Because you got what you wanted out of it. Whether it was giving yourself permission to try, or the thrill of dancing the tango with novelty, or finding out mid-way it’s not what you thought it would be.
None of those reasons are wrong, because you got what you came for, but in a small, low-risk, you-didn’t-fail-not-really situation.
Maybe learning to knit was more fun than the aspiration of knitting a Christmas sweater. Maybe taking the watercolor class with a friend was more enjoyable than aiming for a masterpiece-or-else.
Self-observation can be a revelation. And your salvation.
Now, if your new thing sparks joy, enough so that you WANT to go the distance, then, by all means, get disciplined and consistent and go on with your bad self.
If not, adios and grazie. C’est la vie.
But what about the time and money you invested?
The time—it was yours to play and explore and discover and experience. I’d call that time well spent.
The money—how about you gather all the materials and pack them up in a box or a bag, and attach a note on it saying “to be continued, if desired”. Or give it to a friend, or sell it. Just don’t let it sit in a place you walk by every day and feel regret. There are no awards for self-flagellation.
Remember, you finished what you started out to do, even if it doesn’t fit the usual definition.
Funny how real play can help us learn about real life.
Sometimes, it’s not about the goal of stacking accomplishments, but the pleasure of a mission accomplished.
Which is, Mission: Know Thyself.
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