2-36: Identity Lag

Choosing What Stays

Has anyone you only see every few months asked you if you’re still doing that thing? It happens often. You might be at a party, or at a friend’s house, and someone asks, “Are you still playing the piano?” I actually still play a few times a week, casually. However, just as often, the question lands on something that no longer exists, or exists but is less pronounced than it once was. Take, for instance, my art and sculptures. They are still a part of me, but some of their creative space and energy has been taken up by my writings.

The first instinct is to be embarrassed. To say that an interest has ended risks being taken less seriously. We worry that admitting change will read as inconsistency, as if seriousness requires a single unbroken line rather than a sequence of deliberate turns. There is an urge to defend continuity and to avoid admitting that a former passion was only fleeting. The honest answer is sometimes simpler. I stopped doing that because I found something else that is more fulfilling.

This doesn’t mean the previous pursuit was wasted, nor does it mean it was abandoned because it slowly faded rather than being decidedly stopped. It may have been necessary. Some interests function more as scaffolding than destinations, helping you discover what deserves deeper commitment. As you progress through these various interests, you will recognize a difference in depth. These new pursuits require less active energy to sustain and are more likely to endure.

The start of a new month or turn of a new year makes this easier to see. It creates a natural pause. It is an opportunity to choose one pursuit and take it seriously as a lesson of commitment. The more care and discipline you show to your pursuit of improvement, the more wholly you will consider it a part of you. The next time someone asks what you’re doing outside of work, there is no need to reconcile any past response. Your answer will reflect what replaced what you outgrew and what proved worth keeping.