Our feeds have started to make everyone’s lives look strangely similar: everyone is on the same apps, following the same accounts, going to the same restaurants, standing in the same lines, ordering the same things, and posting some version of the same photo. Trends make it incredibly easy to know what everyone else likes.
The harder question has become: what do I actually like?
What do I want to do when no one is watching? What am I interested in when it isn’t a part of some perfectly curated routine?
There’s rarely a quiet moment anymore when we can actually answer these questions. We wake up and check our phones, play something in the background while we get ready, and put in headphones the second we step outside, as if we’re afraid of the silence of life itself. On walks, we fill the air with calls and music, rarely letting the world around us creep in.
When every quiet moment gets filled, there’s very little room for curiosity to take over. So, how do we make room for our own thoughts?
Start with five minutes of nothing.
When was the last time you gave yourself time to listen to your own thoughts? Sit in silence by yourself for five minutes. No music. No podcast. No scrolling. Nothing.
And almost immediately, your brain will start reminding you of things.
The friend you forgot to answer. Something you’ve been putting off. An idea you keep thinking about. A recipe you want to make. Something you want to try. Laundry. A TV show. Anything.
Listen to those thoughts, remember them, and write them down, especially the things that make you curious.
That’s your starting list.
Do things you enjoy, enjoyably.
Most of us make hobbies unnecessarily intimidating. We imagine that if we’re “into art,” we need supplies, a dedicated corner of our apartment, a Pinterest board, and three evenings a week devoted to it.
It’s not that serious.
Reading doesn’t have to mean forcing yourself through a 400-page book everyone on the internet says will change your life. Read poetry, essays, fantasy, celebrity memoirs, or a children’s book if that’s what sounds fun.
Let your mind follow its curiosity.
Pick up a pencil and let your creativity fill a blank piece of paper. Take an art class. Go for a run. Pop into the museum you always pass but never make time for. Are you going to become an artist? A writer? A marathon runner? A historian? Maybe, but you’re also allowed to just explore, enjoy yourself, and maybe do it again.
Use what you have.
You don’t need professional gear to go for a jog. Draw something. Sit in a café with a book. Paint your nails. Take the long way home. Learn a few words in another language. Try out different makeup looks in your bathroom. Meet someone new.
There’s a popular idea that everyone should have different kinds of hobbies: something that gets your body moving, something creative, something that helps you learn, and so on. This idea can be a useful guide, as long as we don’t turn it into another checklist.
Try to think of it more loosely:
Have something that slows your brain down: painting, drawing, coloring, fishing, baking, meditating.
Have something that moves your body: tennis, golf, running, soccer, dancing, walking.
And have something that makes you curious: reading, Duolingo, museums, exploring new places, learning about a random subject.
You do not need to do all three every week.
You do not need to be good at any of them.
You definitely do not need to monetize them.
The point is to explore your interests, creativity, and abilities your own way.
Show up differently.
Next time you’re with friends, resist the urge to slip into parallel screens.
Pull out a board game or a deck of cards. Bake something together, go thrifting, take a walk. Ask each other questions that go deeper than how your days went. Put on a movie and watch the whole thing.
Now, you’re laughing, exploring, and creating together.
None of this means you should delete every app, never scroll, throw away your headphones, and live in silence all the time. The goal is to notice when you’re turning the volume up because you want to, or because you’ve forgotten how to hear what else is out there.
Sometimes, we just need enough quiet to discover what we like when no one else is talking.