Lost your curiosity?

This often happens after years (or decades) of being employed and working intensely. Here’s what you can do when nothing sparks your interest outside of work.

Bonjour everyone—today’s a really good one!

I’m sharing thoughts on what you can do to reignite your curiosity when you’ve lost sense of what any of your interests are.

This often happens, after years of being employed and periods of intense work. It’s also one of the reasons I decided to go on sabbatical in 2022.

But before I dive in, I want to share some exciting news…

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I am officially launching Thinking of a Sabbatical, the first-ever playbook that will give you the structure, space and insights you need to decide if going on an extended break from work is the right move for you.

This is a distillation of the useful perspectives and exercises I've stumbled upon over the past three years since I first decided I wanted to go on sabbatical. I’ve taken inspiration from my own experience of taking the leap (twice) away from employment, the extensive reading-writing-talking I’ve done on the topic as well as the 70+ conversations I’ve had with people who were thinking of going on a sabbatical or who had already decided they would.

If you’re feeling uncertain about your career, exhausted, or stuck on a hamster wheel that you know won’t stop until you retire, this playbook could be exactly what you need right now to start shaping your life more consciously and in a more meaningful way, whether you end up going on sabbatical or not.

Click here to learn more about the playbook, and use UWMTMWOA to get 20% off the standard price if you buy before Sunday (2nd June) at 18:00 BST.

And feel free to share more widely, you probably have a colleague or a friend who would feel relieved to learn this exists!

Now let’s dive into what I’ve cooked for you today.

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When was the last time you felt so curious about something you could feel excitement bubble up inside of you?

If you're struggling to remember, you're not alone.

Children ask more than 100 questions an hour on average. They are intrinsically curious. As adults, many of us lose this intrinsic drive because it's buried under the weight of work and routine.

As a child, I was curious too. I spent my days reading, drawing and making (what I was adamant were) pretty objects with my hands. 

Yet by the time I started working, my curiosity levels were the lowest they'd ever been, and after a few years of working in jobs where I was fully directed by others, business objectives and bonuses, there was nothing outside of work I felt truly curious about. 

Thirteen years into my career, I felt like I didn’t know who I really was anymore.

Not only was this preventing me from consciously shaping my life in ways that I would find more meaningful, this also meant I’d likely end up staying on the beaten track until I retired, simply because I wasn’t able to imagine different and more fulfilling ways to shape and live my life.

So I started thinking of going on a sabbatical.

Something in me was really looking forward to getting stuck into whatever it was I'd feel drawn to once I was left to my own devices. Making ceramics. Baking croissants. Herding goats. Whatever it might be.

But I was also worried I'd step away from a well-paying job, a structured life and a familiar path to give my curiosity free rein, only to find out afterwards that it had nothing much to say.

This is a common fear. 

I remember speaking with Anton, who was worried he'd give up his cushy Tech job only to find himself passively watching YouTube videos, one day after the next. Helen was worried she'd spend her days knitting—and while this would likely bring her joy, it would neither be seen as useful by others nor bring any money home.

Both Anton and Helen were terrified they'd waste their time on sabbatical, and saying that out loud felt vulnerable. It felt like confessing that they weren't that interesting, deep-down.

I was terrified too. I knew I wouldn't spend much time on YouTube or knitting, but I was worried I'd fill my time doing things just for the sake of keeping myself busy, rather than because I truly wanted to do them.

Ultimately I decided I'd prefer to know I wasn't naturally curious rather than live the rest of my life without ever having made space for that part of me to show up.

So I took twelve months off.

In the first week, I packed up my flat. By the end of the second week I'd moved to Oaxaca, Mexico. And once I felt settled, I asked myself: alright, what do you want to do? 

No response.

Tumbleweed.

Turns out, curiosity is like a muscle; and not only was mine completely atrophied, I had no idea how to build it up again. Simply making space was not enough.

People often broadly suggest listening to podcasts or meeting new people at events. To me it’s like suggesting I garden with a pair of blunt scissors to cut off branches from the oak tree, and water the lawn with a sewing thimble. If I just showed up to random events I'd likely end up listening to someone talk about a topic that doesn’t light me up, and I’d awkwardly bump into people with whom I share little in common. I’d then feel less inclined to go to the next event.

The usual advice on how to rekindle your curiosity lacks specificity and nuance. And the best advice on how to amplify your curiosity doesn't work when you're starting from scratch.

Instead, I got really curious about the process of reigniting my curiosity, slowly changing my internal wirings and shaping my external environment such that they would become primed to help me on my journey to uncover and explore my interests.

It took me months to reconnect with my curiosity. And even more to feel like there was such an abundance of things I was interested in that I was unlikely to get bored or feel boring again.

It took me months because I didn’t have a plan.

Now I know what I would do if I needed to start from scratch again, and I want to share with you what’s worked really well for me.

Step 1—redirect your attention in a more mindful way

I was completely out of practice at noticing any sparks of interest inside me. They were also completely out of practice at making themselves known, after I’d been ignoring them for years. 

Separately, I had been so busy with work and life routines that I had fallen into a tunnel vision, where I filtered my environment such that I would only engage with things that were directly relevant to those routines. When I wasn’t doing that, I was often caught up in digital distractions that were capturing my attention on things that weren’t constructive or joyful. I was missing out on a whole lot of the outside world, despite the fact that it was right there in front of me.

If that sounds like you, I invite you to do two things that will help you redirect your attention more mindfully. 

First, set an intention to be on the lookout for any sparks of interest that might come up inside of you, however small they might be. Notice when you suddenly start walking faster, at an excited pace. Notice a twinkle in your eye, or when your heart skips a beat.

Then, create containers of time and space where you set an intention to expand your awareness to include more of the world around you and the signals it has to offer, and where you consciously decrease the attention you give to work, life routines and digital distractions. 

I was able to create big curiosity containers because I was on sabbatical, but if you’re looking to do something similar you can begin with brief, dedicated moments. Ten minutes. Most days.

Step 2—move and write to unclog your curiosity channels

I'm not suggesting you force yourself to move in specific ways or that you decide to write a 10,000-word essay on a specific topic. What I’m suggesting is much simpler and more intuitive.

Let’s look at movement first. 

I invite you to make space for your body to let you know how it wants to move, and if you feel an invitation to move in a specific way, accept it and see where it leads you next.

Maybe you feel like going for a slow walk while being on the lookout for birdsong, and you’ll end up noticing how your feet feel on the ground with every step you take. Maybe you feel like stretching your arms out a little bit further than usual, and then realise that that feeling that was stuck somewhere inside your chest has moved on and you’re feeling much lighter as a result. It’s often easier to notice and follow what's going on inside of you when you’re moving slowly.

As you move your body in ways that it wants to move, you will start tuning into the signals that you are getting from your body more and more intuitively. You’ll also feel your inner landscape and levels of openness change as you move in ways that release tension, and you’ll start noticing sparks of curiosity more easily, when they come.

Writing is a wonderful complement to movement. It can unclog your mind in a powerful way.

When I say writing I mean free-writing, the kind where you write without stopping for a fixed amount of time (e.g. twenty minutes) or space (three pages). A stream of consciousness.

Putting things on paper means that you are getting them out of your head. Not only does this make your ideas and feelings more salient, particularly the ones you didn't even know you had, it also calms down any internal chatter. On top of that you can then look at the ideas you’ve written down, which means you can engage and build on them more easily.

Move and write intuitively most days. 

At some point, something that sparks your interest will start flowing through you. You will be ready to not only notice it but also act on it.

If this takes time, that’s okay and normal.

Step 3—catch and amplify any curiosity sparks

Once you’ve noticed that something has sparked your interest, it’s time to double down. Usually this happens when you are moving, writing or in diffuse thinking mode i.e. when you let your mind wander as you shower, drive or look out the window.

Use the energy, the curiosity, the excitement around that spark to explore it. Maybe you feel like you'd make an amazing ceramics artist—great, go check out the nearest pottery school and arrange a trial. Or maybe you keep wondering what caused the fall of the Roman Empire—excellent, go on wikipedia and dive into that rabbit hole. 

Or capture these sparks of curiosity and revisit them later in the day or week. Simply commit ten minutes to explore and see where your explorations lead you.

Every time you do this, you’re activating your curiosity muscle.

Start small, stay consistent, and your curiosity will be stronger than it’s ever been. At that point, it will be much easier to amplify it, by attending events and listening to podcasts of course, but also reading books or learning a craft that you now know truly fires you up. And if you connect with people who are interested in similar things to you, you will likely get ten times more excited.

But getting there is likely to take weeks, possibly months if you’re not consistently putting time and energy into it. So be patient, and be kind with yourself even when you’re not seeing results.

Step 4—accelerate the process, if you want

Now you might be so impatient to go through a meaningful life change that you’re ready to throw everything you have into this process to accelerate it. Or you might feel so stuck in the urgency and busy-ness of your work that you have no energy left to dedicate to anything that is not work, and you might feel discouraged before having even started.

I have good news. You have a trump card up your sleeve.

Or maybe I should call it a sabbatical card, because taking an intentional break from work for at least three months (i.e. a sabbatical) will give you the time, space and energy you need to bring your curiosity back to life.

Clear your diary so you can engage in movement and writing practices, and follow sparks of interest whenever they come up and for however long you feel like it. 

Step away from tunnel vision so your nervous system can calm down, away from the ‘fight or flight’ mode that overworked people so often find themselves stuck in. Once the constant noise from work disappears, you’ll find it easier to notice sparks that show up inside of you.

Maybe even change your environment so that you don’t have to go looking for novelty in a familiar space. Go live somewhere with a completely different energy and culture from what you’re used to, for a while. Unfamiliar places will hit you in the face with so much novelty that you’ll be forced to engage with it, and you can use that novelty as triggers for your curiosity.

Is all this worth the financial and career risk?

I think so. Many others who have also taken the leap agree.

Going on sabbatical gave me the self-knowledge and the tools I needed to shape the next phase of my life in a way that felt meaningful to me. Even now, 18 months after I returned to work, I can feel my personal interests and curiosity guiding me every day to do things that make me feel more alive.

If I hadn’t gone on sabbatical and hadn’t awakened my curiosity properly, I wouldn’t be here writing this piece. My life would probably be very similar to the life I had a few years ago: similar job, same tunnel vision, but with more money.

If that feels scary to you, now might be the right time to play your sabbatical card. If not, you can always keep it up your sleeve and play it when the time is right.