“I spent so much time on something, only to scrap it.”
—but, that’s often just an excuse. I just had nothing to say [at that moment]. If it doesn’t nag me nor bother me later on, though, I was never really interested in it.
I didn’t care enough and “I don’t care” is most revealing
Some associate “care/caring” with “morality,” where people should or should not “care” about something, someone, somewhen—as if one could “care” about every bad or good thing. Some may interject by saying: we care because it is the morally good thing to do. Though “feeling bad” can be a reason to care, it is perhaps the most inauthentic of “caring”—I only feel bad if I do not do it, which shows I never really cared to begin with. If I were interested, if I truly “cared” for it, I would just do it—no “morality” attached.
Unfortunately, the pseudo-abundance of things to “care for” has overwhelmed many, revealing shallowness and diluting what “care” even means. I cannot care about everything, and I should not try to. At its root, “care/caring” is a derivative of interest.
interest: feeling of wanting to know or learn about something or someone [OED]
Similar to raison d’être (reason to be), there must be a reason for interest. This “reason”—innocent or not—is an exchange; interest must have some persuasive qualities to it. I have to be convinced to give attention and time to learn more about, to care for something, someone—the subject of “care” has to be worthwhile. And it cannot be bought or forced; one is either curious or not. It develops and can emerge gradually. So for things that do not quite make sense at first, make them interesting, making the “unbearable” bearable in one way or another.
Interest then requires a will to doubt, an inclination that there is something more, something I do not know and possibly cannot understand. One question leads to two, exponentially increasing until I hit a wall, a limit to my current understanding and creativity.
“But, how can I find what ‘interests’ me?” one may ask. The test for genuine interest lies in losing interest, in precisely forgetting what one does and desires. This loss of interest is a temporary rejection, allowing what is authentic to marinate. In this absence, I accept what truly interests me, what nags and bothers me daily. The continuous loss of interest refines what I enjoy, providing a new start and revealing what I am meant to do.
With this cleansing, I “leave room” for other and future topics that may come and persuade me. The only way forward is to lose interest, stop caring, and forget—gain by losing.
And remember, we never forget what we truly care about, who we truly care about, so if you forgot something, someone…
Enduring interest will always reveal itself in its absence.
I’ve never contemplated interest in this way. Really interesting read.