I noticed something odd. It’s been over a year since the last time I drew anything. And I used to draw almost every day for years. Anything from funky doodles to full-on portraits. I loved it—I drew for the sake of drawing.
Years later and I find that life became increasingly complicated. When before I used to do things just because they brought me joy, now I have to pass my motivation for doing anything at all through layers of filters.
Is it worth the time? Are there more important things I need to be doing? (The answer is almost always a yes.)
Will this make me money or is there a potential that it will make me money in the future? (Probably not.)
Is this something I should be doing? (By anybody’s standards. And I mean by anybody’s – you, your family, friends, absolutely random strangers).
And the honest truth is, when you ask yourself these 3 questions, you almost certainly choose the activity or course of action that little by little kills your soul. Is that too dramatic? I mean let’s look at this.
As kids, we all do things that we want to do (or that our parents let us). If we want to spend 5 hours on the playground we do. If we want to play with that one kid, we do—if not, then we don’t. When we’re sad, we cry. When we’re happy, we smile and laugh. Do we think about what others will think of us or if we should be polishing our portfolio instead? I think not.
So why is it that when we grow up we gradually stop doing the things that brought us so much joy, all to wash the dishes, tweak the website for the nth time, or even worse—overthink your actions until you find yourself 30 minutes later numbing your brain by scrolling through your Instagram feed or flipping through the Netflix categories.
When we are not free to pursue our interests, we go down the path that is not right for us, and little by little we become a shell of what we could’ve been.
So the next time you remember about that little, stupid thing that brought you so much joy—do it. Pick up that pencil. Take that class. Buy the piano you wanted for years. You and everybody else around you will be happy you did—because joy is contagious.