What bores me isn’t a specific activity — it’s stagnation.

I cycle through hobbies the way seasons change. Some days everything fascinates me. I want to try it all. A new craft, a new show, a new skill, a random deep dive into something shiny and unexpected. My brain lights up like a room full of open windows.

And then there are days when nothing sticks. Nothing holds. The same world that felt electric yesterday feels muted, like the volume got turned down. It’s not that things are boring — it’s that my interest goes quiet.

I’ve learned I live in waves. Curiosity rushes in, then pulls back. When I’m in the low tide, I don’t force it anymore. I let boredom exist. Because it never stays. It’s just the pause before the next spark.