How Pursuing Special Interests Still Doesn’t Lead To Achievements
Whenever I would come across a recap of autistic traits, the part about pursuing special interests always caused me some unease. I am a late diagnosed autistic woman, who naturally turned to comparing my traits with those ascribed to autistics.
In many ways it went ok, and I found many similarities, confirming my belonging to the kind. Yet when examining my tendency to have special interests, I tended to think that this particular trait, one of a few desirable ones for a change, is somehow underrepresented in my character.
Sure, I used to be into astronomy as a kid, and I am a die-hard trekkie, but I never reached an expert level in those topics. I would just pursue an interest as a kind of a subroutine, constantly running in my brain, in the background, at about medium priority.
It’s not like I would devour knowledge in all-consuming mode, like some crazed gamer. There would be no memorizing of terms and facts to ridiculous extent. I would just… take it in as long as the sense of wonder lasts.
This mode of pursuing special interests contradicted a common stereotype that I myself fell for. I fully expected myself to first become the kind of a nerdy know-it-all geek girl, often portrayed in popular culture in glasses and with side pony tails, before I would tick that box (a blend of top geek girl tv characters came to mind).
Not only the genius tv girl has her expertise, quick wit, and flawless instincts. She also found her vocation, where she fits in, and where her skills are appreciated and admired. Hence through-the-roof self confidence, air of cute quirky authority, and sassy looks to match.
At least in my case, a special interest in a field does not lead to encyclopedic knowledge on the subject. Which leaves me with no chance to ever impress anybody enough to find my niche.
To myself, I know my strength. It’s the way I constantly mull in my mind a multitude of interesting points from the subject matter, comparing them, and making unexpected connections. But how to ever convey to anybody that this is what I can contribute?
Instead, whenever I get a chance to share my love of a particular interest with like-minded others, I would participate as a giddy lurker, at the most offering a few remarks here and there.
Then again, it may be a simple matter of how much time I was able to invest. May be I would get to the expert level, if I had all the time necessary? It’s not like I am in principle against systemic approach to self-directed learning.
Another hindrance is the fact that the list of interests I pursue is not set in stone. Interests can come, go, or change priority comparing to other interests. If I drop an interest from top priority list, in couple of months, inevitably, I start forgetting the important facts, connections, clues I found, even if it was my own original discovery.
Sometimes I would write down and save the most important findings. I have a hoard of prior writings, images, bookmarks, etc., in my files, that seemed important at the time of saving. Now I would need time to get back into what it was about.
So, after all, may be I do qualify for the special interests trait, even if I don’t get Velma-savvy?
Next question is, how to push myself to capitalize on this ability? What exactly is stopping me from turning at least one of the hobbies into something useful, like a blog, an e-book, or even a paid occupation?
This question has been bothering me for long time. I had time to think, and already arrived to plausible answers.
It’s the presentation layer. And yes, it can be considered as just another set of skills, worthy to pursue on it’s own. Again, there is this stereotype that an introverted person, anyway pursuing various interests, would surely tackle this one.
Ha, not so fast. This supposedly purely technical, hands-on craft has to do with design and communication of your ideas to others.
There’s been a few awkward attempts to express myself throughout my adult life. Periodically, I thought of creating a website, or starting a video blog, or writing an ebook. All tries ended miserably, never even reaching published stage. Visual arts remain a mystery to me. Composing an easy to digest discourse — a pipe dream.
If I resolve not to give up, language expression would be the most promising direction to work on. Unfortunately, introverted lifestyle is not conducive to naturally exercising it. If I don’t even talk much with people on regular basis, what experience I would ever have of conveying something beyond trivial?
There is no easy way out of this dilemma. An introvert with ideas in their head needs to resolve to push themselves to work on their self-expression skills. It will not come to them miraculously, with no effort.
There are passive and active components to command of a language. It finally dawned on me what all writers know to themselves. It’s not enough to read. One must specifically exercise their writing skills.
That’s what I finally admitted to myself. And this is why I started trying to write, in my 50s. This is why — this blog (wink:). No, really, I was so relieved when finally found this platform. No need to tinker with presentation layer, real people feedback, easy to join in. That’s what I was looking for.
I was almost ready to conclude the article on this happy note. But I did not yet cover all angles to the question of successful self-expression. So far I only discussed absolutely solitary ways to be creative. Blogging, writing…
What of collaboration? A productive one, like, starting a company, or a non-profit? Presumably, an awkward person with ideas can find other people to help with whatever they don’t excel in. Just hire a designer. Inspire people with your ideas. Find a shark tank investor who gets you.
Besides the difficulties already covered above, starting a formal venture brings about a different set of pitfalls. Whenever you start working with people, you need to contend with formalities. And I am not saying it’s wrong. There must be rules for people to cooperate successfully.
Problem is, my state of wonder has a life of it’s own. If I am interested in something right now, doesn’t mean I am ready to commit to keep doing it, on a regular basis, like a job. Nor does it mean I am willing to take on responsibilities, and to expect and demand them from others.
Yet another stereotype comes to mind, that of a maverick CEO. Whenever I hear one more story of a life long dreamer, who founded a company in pursuit of their passion, my heart actually aches for them. Will their passion survive the switch from being enjoyed to being exploited?
In closing, I would like to remark on a popular wisdom argument that tenacity is the cure for all issues with underachievement. Intuitively, I suspect it’s not so simple. I am still in the process of searching for answers. My search is in the direction of science of the mind.
There may be a brain functioning-related explanation for issues I outlined in this article. Right now I will just hint that it may have to do with different modes of operation of our brains. One mode I would dub “laser-focused man-of-action”, and there is another one, some sort of “dreamy-creative” one. It is my growing hypothesis that these are mutually exclusive states of mind. Hence may be the difficulty switching from being a dreamer to being an accomplisher?
Currently I am in the process of finding relevant material in neuroscience-related literature. Will return to this subject when find more to say.
