The Quitting Myth

Tile Making Obsession

I was strongly struck by something my brother told me when I mentioned I wanted to go back to ballet (I was a ballerina in the past and today dread physical activities). He told me that it would be one more thing on my list to quit. 
The comment sounded odd, as I never saw myself as a quitter. But when a co-worker said the same thing about my enrolling on Orange Theory exercise program, I had to look at the “quitting thing” more carefully. Not so much at the fact that maybe I am a quitter, but how society sees and expects us to behave.
There are several things about my personality that have changed over the years, but there are some that have remained the same. The ones that I find particularly pertinent to this topic is that I learn or experiment by doing rather than observing; my absolute inability to continue or pursue something I hate; and my intense curiosity.
When I look back, I guess in my little brother’s eyes, I have started and not finished many things: I was a good ballerina (not great, but good) and gave that up; I did theater for some time; I took up cross stitching; I bought a whole tennis outfit and tennis racket and played one time; I took a job I realized I hated after 1 week and flew back home on the second day of training (I swear, I left the hotel at 5am); I took salsa lessons; bought skates to exercise and used it once; right out of college tried to be a therapist for autistics kids and gave up after one week (it takes a very special talented person to do this, I have a lot of respect for them); and ended some very serious relationships, and I guess throughout my life I wanted to be many, many things when I grew up, none of which is what I do today. 
Therefore, I understand that in my little brother’s eyes, I might be a quitter in some sense, but in my eyes I see things very differently now. Although I felt I was doing what my heart told me, it was only when my brother made the comment that I realized I too pressured myself based on society’s expectations, even if in an unconscious level. But hold on, why should I???? 

When I read “Refuse to Choose”, it became clear to me I was one of those people the author calls “scanner.” You know, the “jack of all trades, master of none.” As we know, this trait is not held in high regard in our society. We are all supposed to be specialists, experts in something. I am not saying this is a bad thing, I sure do not want to have brain surgery with someone who was fixing ingrown nails last week, but in general, we should all have some room to pursue the things we love. 
As a scanner, I am curious and do things for the learning process itself, not the goal. I did cross stitching until I felt I knew it well enough, for as long as it was a challenge, then I got bored with it. I danced ballet until I felt I was good enough and I mastered my pointe, then I was done with it. I like to learn for the pure pleasure of learning not because it should have a purpose or a financial gain. Learning it is MY reward.
As a kinesthetic learner, I learn by doing it, which also means sometimes I need to do something myself to realize I hate it. When I applied for the job as counselor of autistic kids, the “idea” of it sounded wonderful to me. What can be more gratifying than helping children gain social and physical skills in order to have a better quality of life? When I actually did the work, I was absolutely petrified. I was not physically capable of handling some of the bigger kids and I was afraid I was hurting them or doing something wrong when they screamed. I had to do it, in order to realize it was not for me and that I was not good at it.
All this brings me to the point I really want to make: why quitting can be a good thing. We are bombarded everyday with messages about never quitting or never giving up. But sometimes not quitting can be a big waste of time and resources we could be using to produce, do, be something that is much more valuable to us. Take a profession for instance. I changed my mind several times, until I found something that fulfilled me in ways that matter to me: I like to problem solve, to investigate, to be solicit to those who need, I also like order and hierarchy. 

And then it was not anymore. And I quit. Now that I have a week under my belt at the new place, I can say it was the best decision I could have made.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost