Hyper-fixation v.s. Passion
I subconsciously realized at the age of six or seven, after my parents gave me a Honey Bun for the first time, that I have a slightly addictive personality. For some reason, we stopped in a Kroger or Piggly Wiggly, and they bought a box of them. After each taking one for themselves, they left me with the rest in the back of the car. Within ten to fifteen minutes of the drive, I had eaten nearly all of them. They caught me before I finished the box.
When’s the last time you had a honeybun? I had one a couple of months ago, and it made me feel sick.
I listened to Daniel Caesar’s debut album Freudian for two years straight until Tyler’s Igor came out. Did I relate to a single word of it? Absolutely not. It’s a wonderfully written and executed album about love, including topics of sex, cheating, and trials and tribulations of having devotion to another person. He even speaks about straying away from Christianity. I was an acne-prone sophomore who had never been asked on a single date and was extremely excited to take Apologetics at my private Christian high school. What made me replay it nonstop for two years? I couldn’t tell you, but my mom and little sister definitely heard me in the shower every morning for a while singing:
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOO, WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT I’D GET YOUUUUUU”
as if I felt every. single. word.
Don’t even get me started on finding out that I like someone. Dear God, I get infatuated with them. I think about them in class, at work, driving places, the comfort of my own home. Anything could remind me of them. If you think that honey bun made me feel sick, just take a ride through my brain when I’m crushing on someone. It’s a sickness, illness, disease, whatever word you want to use for it really.
Maybe I’m about to say this next part because of my experience with the concept, but I think hyper-fixations or having a slightly addictive behavior is perfectly normal. I wouldn’t go as far to say that it’s food for the soul or something, but it’s okay to temporarily find extreme amounts of pleasure or joy in something. I mean, you’re not going to like everything you do, eat, certain people, or whatever all the time. I don’t think we were designed that way.
The trouble I have, though, is deciphering the difference between these short-term obsessions and passion.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but my entire life, I’ve been fed this idea that you have to “find your passion”, “do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life”, and every variation of those two quotes that you could possibly think of. This kind of speech led me to believe that being passionate about something was solely an innate thing. Therefore, up until recently, I’ve struggled with thinking that I’m not truly passionate about really anything since it seems like I’m never really consistent with any of my hobbies or interest. I don’t feel like I’m an expert or master in any one subject.
I just have surface-level affections for things, hyper-fixations. I’m like a poser but for everything in my life.
That thought above would literally eat at me until I was in tears. You’re telling me in twenty years I haven’t been able to find something that not only I’m better at or understand more than most people, but I absolutely love learning about or doing??? It got so bad a couple of weeks ago that last post took me three weeks to write because I felt like my new obsession had already run its course. I felt like I sucked at this already, and I was thinking of giving up on it.
It just so happened that I saw a TikTok recently talking about how some college photography professor divided their students into two groups. One group was supposed to take as many pictures as possible for their final project, quality did not matter. The other group had the task of taking only one photo, and it basically needed to be the best photo they had ever taken. The latter group I mentioned produced significantly better content because they kept trying a bunch of things, and it allowed them to be creative as possible, whereas the former was too focused on being perfect.
Essentially, the first set of students had more practice in their photography skills. They were indirectly participating in this thing called the 10,000 hour rule coined by (I think) Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers. Here’s an excerpt from TIME magazine explaining it:
“Based on research suggesting that practice is the essence of genius, best-selling author Malcolm Gladwell popularized the idea that 10,000 hours of appropriately guided practice was “the magic number of greatness,” regardless of a person’s natural aptitude. With enough practice, he claimed in his book Outliers, anyone could achieve a level of proficiency that would rival that of a professional. It was just a matter of putting in the time.”
I don’t really know how true the whole thing is, but it does make sense. I mean, if it didn’t the saying “practice makes perfect” wouldn’t exist.
Anyways, both those groups of students must have a passion for photography. A natural inclination towards it, but the second group proved that talent alone doesn't mean you’re a master right away. They needed more practice, (perhaps 5,000 hours, since 10,000. hours is longer than a semester of college), like the other group. What I’m getting at here is that passions, while there’s an innate aspect to them, are cultivated. Hyper-fixations can become passions (a pipeline, if you will), but only if they’re developed. Expecting to know more than any particular person, expecting grand results every time you participate in something, or expecting to be a true “master” only leads to disappointment, and sooner or later, insanity.
Thank you all for reading seriously! Y’all’s feedback makes me feel like this “passion” I’m trying to develop is worth it.
