And the soul says, "MEH"
How to be boring
Hello Maker,
Today’s anti-advice column is about the fear of being boring and irrelevant. Also: being bored in the attention economy.
But one quick thing first: tomorrow is…
THE NYC BOOK LAUNCH FOR MAKING TIME
I want to see you! RSVP here.
Now, onto the Anti-Advice column.
It’s the kind of thing where you ask your burning questions, and I ask questions right back. Because the answers that emerge from your own wisdom will serve you best.
Hit reply to send me your questions.
This week’s question:
“I want to start a newsletter. I’m scared that what I write won’t be interesting to subscribers.”
I understand wanting to avoid that. I’m sure I’ve literally said the words, “I would rather someone say they hate me than call me boring.” (I admit, it’s an Enneagram 4 cliché.)
Not only is it personally devastating to be dismissed, but we live in an attention economy that demands we perform relevance. For creatives, this culture would list “being ignorable” as a cardinal sin on par with Murder and Being Unproductive.
You’re describing a concern that feels existential to us. It can seem like being interesting is the same as being relevant, which is the same as maintaining connections, which is the same as survival. To be uninteresting is to cease to exist — or so it seems.
And the algorithm has served us a lot of reasonable advice about how to make compelling content for the void, how to stop the scroll. “Captivate your audience with provocative questions!” “Create value!” “Stoke outrage!”
I don’t know about you, but I am weary of having dangling sets of keys jingled in front of my face all the time. I recognize the hooks that keep me watching, and I resent them. The fake urgency of productivity-land has become monotonous.
The good news is, it’s not in your job description to avoid being uninteresting to people. It’s your job to follow the path of your own consciousness with love and curiosity — allowing people to follow along or not.
It’s like dating — you find the right people by sharing your actual enthusiasms and edges, because there’s no point in building a relationship based on someone else’s.
I can picture a dimly lit moment when I saw someone’s eyes glaze over as I spoke, which told me everything I needed to know about whether there should be a second date.
They were allowed to be bored. I was allowed to say to myself, “I refuse to do a fancier tap dance to maintain this connection.”
So! Since it’s impossible to avoid someone’s “meh,” why not let it clarify what you do want to do?
Who are you willing to be uninteresting to? Describe those people.
People who don’t care about art? People who don’t care about your politics? People who want everything surface-level, or more emotional, or more rational, or less about the birds you love watching from your window?
What do you find yourself returning to, even when no one else seems to care?
What are you willing to be uninteresting in the service of? What values override this fear? What do you love that supersedes your interest in validation (which is not a flaw)?
How about your own curiosity?
It’s an irony of the attention economy that its demand to captivate outside attention leaves us… bored. In fact, I believe a lot of creative blocks arise from a deep yawn from our soul that sees what we think we should be doing and says, NOT TODAY. I HAVE DONE ENOUGH HOMEWORK IN THIS LIFE.
Most of the time, we are not walking the edge of our own interest. Meaning: we bore ourselves by trying to create something correct, bulletproof, and inoffensive.
It’s an irony of the attention economy that its demand to captivate outside attention leaves us… bored.
Maybe 80% of our fear of boring others is actually an secret intelligence inside us that cries: avoiding mistakes is tedious! I refuse to aim for safe, grey, and lifeless. I am tired of being pleasing!
What if, very concretely, your job was to pursue the boundaries of your emotional, intellectual, and spiritual world? What would you talk about? What risks would you take?
It’s not a content strategy, but it is how you dial up your intimacy with the world. As a natural by-product, you will attract others who will be nourished by the way you pay attention.
How generous of you to risk such boredom.
Love,
Maria
Wish we could just proclaim a worldwide month-long moratorium on trying to be *interesting*. What if we all had permission to be as “boring” as possible (to everyone but ourselves)? How many brand new, authentically interesting things could get made?
This is a really helpful reminder. I dread doing newsletters because I'm bored of trying to be interesting to the void. I should have never found out I am an Aquarian because they're always portrayed as eccentrics who nobody gets. I don't even believe in astrology! LOL.