Perhaps the reason the idea of an “interesting” life feels like a cop-out – compared to, say, a wildly successful or influential or joyful one – is that it lacks any sense of domination or conquest. We want to feel as though we were handed the challenge of a human lifetime and that we nailed it, that we grappled with the problem and solved it. Whereas to follow the lead of interestingness is to accept that life isn’t a problem to be solved, but an experience to be had. And that engaging with it as fully as possible, connecting to the aliveness, is its ultimate point.
What this means in practical terms is daring to trust your own curiosity. In creative work, that might mean abandoning the effort to “remember everything you read”, or conducting exhaustive research so as to ensure you’ve considered all the factors other people think you ought to consider, and instead using what naturally interests you as a filter.
Whenever I ignore this and dive into something I’m not interested in, I have a miserable time. Video content is a perfect example. I’m convinced there’s a way for me to actually enjoy making it, but I haven’t found it yet, and it becomes a headache almost immediately.
Trusting my curiosity, on the other hand, always leads me to a good time and makes me feel like I’m spending my days on something that’s actually worth doing.
