Waiting on the Fedex truck

I've long been someone that's looked for ways to be intrinsically motivated.

It's just a more interesting life. Where external motivations tend to need to ramp up and get more exciting, internal ones can be on a whole separate wavelength, and deepen over time.

Finding things that light you up, excite you, make you want to get up in the morning—those are the elements that make life interesting.

Needing another person to define what your day looks like, to encourage and motivate, to be the reason we do things—just holds less value longterm.

But, and here I'm going to mix up my metaphors a bit, all of us humans exist on a spectrum of internal to external motivation.

Some times we find delight and joy in completing a task because someone else wants that thing done.

Other times we pursue interests for some weird internal mechanisms that demands curiosity be satisfied.

In general I lean more toward the latter; and look for ways to align that to what other people also value—and are likely to pay for.

Recently I've fallen into the trap of being motivated by something outside of me.

And that's come in a relatively unexpected form.

Buying things.

I've found myself looking forward to the Fedex truck pulling into my driveway on an almost daily basis.

It's gotten pretty silly, actually.

I"ll buy a new USB cable, cord, bag, book, some sort of game, case—literally anything to organize my life—and look forward to the arrival of that item.

Thankfully, all these purchases are tiny and not really a problem on the bottom line (though they can't be helping), but I realized that much of my enjoyment for the day revolves around waiting for the next item to show up. I'm not a hoarder (Maybe? Hopefully?) so I tend to get small things and organize them as much as I can.

But, such a habit isn't sustainable in terms of why it's happening.

I realized this week that I was looking for some joy in the arrival of that new thing. But, as you probably know, there's always diminishing returns on how much the new can satisfy.

Now, I like nice things.

I love gadgets, bags, containers, organizational items; all that. And, if my personality was different I'd probably start a YouTube channel and talk about all the things that get me excited—but I'm yet to figure out if I'm wired for that.

To seek out items for the sake of an endorphin boost only brings short term joy.

So I set out to see what I could do about that.

I was inspired by a recent YouTube video, where the author described a formula for deciding on new purchases.

Here are the spending rules I've been trying:

1. Does it earn back its cost in a year?
2. Is it something you'll use a lot?
3. What will be its cost per use?
4. Do you just want it? 2-week photo rule
5. Goal based

I highly recommend the video for a full breakdown.

The rule that I've found most useful is the fourth one. And it's already become immensely helpful. I've noticed that in the course of a day I stumble on a handful of things I'd like to buy. So far, since implementing this plan, not a single one has fallen into the category of earning money. So I've punted, taken a screenshot on my phone, and thrown it into the abyss of my photo library.

If in two weeks I still want it, I'll re-evaluate.

I've felt a calm from doing this. I can still look, dig into the details of things—I recently re-explored (for the tenth time) travel pillows (there's a lot I could say about these!), but landed on not taking action on the next one I want to test. Instead it's sitting there in my gallery, collecting dust. And I'm satisfied that I got to dive into my curiosity and learn about a topic that captures my odd interest.

There's a million other things like this, and now I feel free to go look, but not check on the bank account for whether I'll purchase.

This frees up another area of my life.

Just looking only has a certain level of satisfaction.

Other things, more intrinsically motivated, can now come to the fore and grab my attention. Like writing, for instance.

Much of my adult life has been finding ways to push back against the external forces demanding I listen, and instead try to adjust to hear the quieter voice in my head.

Also, I'm not waiting on the Fedex truck anymore, it's got nothing for me.