We live surrounded by first times, and first times, as I've mentioned a couple of times before, are ridiculously exciting. Doing something for the first time comes with a certain level of uncertainty that makes everything a hundred times more exciting than doing something you've already done.
But I think something has shifted lately. Doing something new doesn't feel quite like it used to, and it no longer represents what it once did. At least for me.
It now feels almost like a competition. As if, when you're not doing something new, something more, you're being left behind. Like you're not actually doing enough.
But what happens when we're constantly surrounded by new, new, new? A new restaurant, a new gallery, a new event, a new exhibition, a new movie, a new project…
It's starting to feel like we're measuring our lives by the number of new things we've experienced, heard about, read or listened to. Whether we actually connected with those experiences or not almost seems irrelevant. It's more like a competition over whose life has been filled with the most new experiences.
And when you don't have something new to share, it feels like you've done nothing at all. Like you've somehow wasted your time.
But since when does having nothing new happening, nothing outside of our usual routine, mean that nothing is actually happening?
I've found myself questioning whether I've started confusing movement with progress. As if not changing something automatically means you're not evolving. But is that really the case?
"What have you been up to lately?"
It's such a simple question, yet I often find myself searching for something interesting enough to say. A trip, a new project, a restaurant I've discovered, something different from what I was doing the week before.
And when nothing particularly new comes to mind, I usually end up saying, "Not much, really."
But why does having nothing new to share sometimes feel like having nothing to share at all?
Is it because of the way we consume media nowadays? Because enough never really feels like enough? We need more experiences, more exercise, more routines, more clothes, more events. More and more and more.
It's getting to a point where having something to look forward to almost feels like a necessity. The need to plan a trip, start a new project or find some kind of new beginning.
And don't get me wrong, I love having things to look forward to. I love making plans and getting excited about what's coming next. But I think we're starting to have trouble distinguishing between planning something because we genuinely want to do it and needing something planned in order to feel excited about life.
Which basically comes down to this: am I finding it difficult to enjoy the present because I'm constantly thinking about what's next?
Or is it the illusion of progress?
Starting something new creates an immediate sense of moving forward. But starting five different projects doesn't necessarily mean you've made more progress than someone who's been steadily working on the same project for five years.
And I think the same applies to experiences. Accumulating trips, plans or activities doesn't necessarily mean we're getting more out of life.
Am I doing this because I genuinely want to, or because I need to feel like I'm doing something?
And while thinking about all of this, I couldn't help but come back to the importance of learning to stay with something. To actually stick with it instead of moving on to something else the moment the initial excitement starts to fade. To give things enough time to develop, even when they're no longer new.
Because perhaps that's where the real progress happens. Not necessarily in starting something different, but in continuing something long enough to see what comes out of it.
I think it all comes down to learning how to be satisfied with the present instead of constantly chasing what's next and the adrenaline that comes with something new.
And maybe, more than anything, learning how to stay interested in something once the "new phase" has passed.
