Harnessing the Power of Shiny Objects

"Oh wow, you're fast."

My colleague is impressed. By the time she started to wrap her head around the issue, I had already solved it.

The rush of dopamine I get when I am presented with a challenge I know I can solve is my superpower. I've made a career of it.

But what my coworker fails to understand, what many before her have overlooked, is that throwing myself at every shiny problem that demands fixing comes at a cost.

The "energy-sucking cases"  —and our customers — pay the price.

The Energy-Sucking Cases

That's my name for long, complicated, and not easily fixed issues. I used it in a meeting once, and all my fellow case handlers and problem solvers around the table laughed. We even made an acronym out of it: ESC.

My ESCs give me a headache at the thought of tackling them. That's why I jump on any email, any new, shorter, simpler case thrown at me, rather than face the beast.

The irony is, with the amount of back and forth these cases usually take by the time they earn their ESC badge, I've already run the marathon.

The desire to get it over with finally allows me to summon some droplets of "dopaminergy." Only then do I realize how close I was to the finish line all along.

How I Throw Money at Short-Lived Passions

I have it good in my job. It is — sometimes — fun and challenging, and I'm good at it. My shiny objects make me shine.

My nervous system is interest-based, and I spend hours dealing with tasks that — well , interest me not. This makes my money hard-earned.

And yet, I keep throwing it at new objects, whose urgency and the interest it sparks in my brain make them shiny to me.

I created a blog to achieve financial freedom, but it has only cost me money.

No biggie.

I resigned gently, quietly, to pursue more novel hobbies. Ignoring the sharp voice in my head pointing out what a waste it was is easy: [insert new hobby] is all-consuming until it's not.

I spent thousands and thousands of pounds on a (British) music program and truly had the best time of my life at a songwriting retreat in Spain. But the year-long program wore down my motivation.

The Burnout Loop

I forced myself.

I pushed through writing sessions when I didn't want to be in the room. I haven't written a song because I wanted to since May 2023.

I should work harder when I've worked so hard to pay for it, right?

It took me months to find the next shiny object. I was lethargic and found stimulation nowhere. Netflix was my safe place.

Salvation — aka my next obsession — came in the form of renovating my apartment. It gave me a feeling of mastery and a sense of accomplishment that I had never experienced before.

Could flipping houses be my new path to financial freedom?

No.

I burned out.

But I've worked so hard already, I should work even harder to finish, right?

Only when I, a 37-year-old independent woman, burst into tears on the phone with my Dad did I decide it was time to pursue something new.

Embracing the Cycle of Creativity

My colleagues sometimes ask how my music career is going. I tell them it's nonexistent at the moment, but the love will come back. Shiny objects run in circles.

I know it's true. From the moment I decided to take a break from tiling my kitchen, I was compelled to pick up my ukulele. But not to write a song. Not yet. The circle is not complete.

Instead, I decided to write, still from the heart, but without a soundtrack. Writing is my new salvation. My next shiny object.

There is a reason why I dream of financial freedom. Pursuing new passions gives me so much joy. I want to follow that joy whenever it shows up. For now, I will follow it whenever I can.

My neurodivergence may be a hindrance when it comes to finishing projects, but it becomes my kryptonite only if I allow it to be. It's my weakness only if I push through for too long.

For my sanity, I will keep chasing shiny objects.

I will unleash my superpower.

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Originally published at Medium.com in the Penny Pub.