I dare you to sit yourself down right now and write a list of 10 things you like… things you’re “into.”

The thing you do for work can only be one of the 10 things (if work even made the cut 😏). Reading my Monday blog posts, obviously, will be one of your 10 entries. But other than that guidance, you’re on your own with this little listaroo.

Are you having a hard time with the list? You are not alone. We’ll psychoanalyze all that in a moment, but for now, here is a superlative “things I dig” example I stumbled across online about musician Robbie Fulks (he’s an alternative country bluegrass singer and let’s just pretend we know what that means):

“Besides country and bluegrass music, Robbie is fiercely fond of Charles Mingus, P.G. Wodehouse, quantum mechanics, his wife Donna, comedy in almost all forms, cooking, swimming laps, the past, Arthur Schopenhauer, Universal horror movies, his grandson and even his sons, coastal towns in the off-season, and rye whiskey, though in nothing like that order.”

There are 14 things about this Robbie bluegrass guy on this list. I feel like I know him, like him, and wish I liked whiskey because I’d love to sit in a bar with him (and Donna, too, obviously—I’m not trying to bed him) and hear more about his “fiercely” nuanced life.

Want another example?

Melanie Avalon is an actress, author, podcaster… the kind of dynamo who has earned the multi-hyphenate moniker. Here’s a snippet from her website:

“Ok, I really like Disney (EPCOT!), Christmas, grass-fed steak, and (organic) wine. Also fairies, chivalry, non-humidity, good hair days, laughing, crying, and all things that sparkle.”

Her website bio also reveals that “she is certified as a wine specialist by the WSET, as a holistic nutritionist by the AFPA, and is a member of Mensa International.”

IN-TER-EST-ING.

But wait! I’m not advocating for this to be a How Interesting Are You contest. This isn’t about who is into cooler things (even though coastal towns in the off-season and Mensa are ostensibly cool things to be “into”).

This is about being in tune with what lights us up, what proclivities we call our own, what our areas of interest are.

It’s only when we get a handle on our enthusiasms that we can leverage them.

Quick corporate diatribe

One way I get my kicks is by reading executive bios on corporate websites (OH DON’T WORRY I AM WELL AWARE I NEED NEW HOBBIES). It’s entertaining to read about Burt the CFO and all his degrees and accreditations and experiences and mergers and acquisitions and acronyms—bahaha—that stuff is the ultimate cure for insomnia. The amusement comes from the modicum of effort made to show that Burt is a human! being! with! a! beating! heart! who is probably definitely not a robot! This is the “personal life” sentence at the end of the corporate bio that 96% of the time sounds like, “When Burt is not in the office he loves to travel, spend time with his wife and kids, and hike.”

I’d rather hear that Burt is a robot because that would be way more interesting. (How often does he oil his joints? Questions abound.)

(I don’t mean to barf all over Burt here; he might really have a passion for hiking with his family in far-flung places, which sounds really fulfilling for Burt. I suppose I am recoiling at the watered-down, safe language inserted by the marketing team.)

Most companies skip the “personal stuff” entirely in their bios because they’ve maybe all agreed it’s too hard to humanize executives? Maybe they are afraid to divulge that Burt likes skeet shooting because what if three of their shareholders take offense to the shooting of skeet? What if the personal lives of the people who work in the company are distastefully off-brand? (I once worked with a supremely cool executive who loved hardcore heavy metal but didn’t want his board to know in case they judged him. It was almost as if he submitted “Chad’s leisure interests include S&M” for his online bio.)

Bottom line from this little corporate bio tirade: there is a deafening silence that erupts from the formulaic Burt bios. Maybe add in a little reality, and we’d like your company more? We’d like to know that Burt is planning a bucket-list hiking trip with his family to Machu Picchu, even if he has to piggy-back his kids to the top, for example. See? Way less robot-ey.

An even quicker dating app diatribe

I haven’t dated in about 740 years, so my familiarity with dating apps shall officially be deemed unfamiliar, but I do know how to ask my computer for information. Eharmony research reveals “Close to one in three singles (29%) believe that someone’s taste in hobbies is more important than how they look,” which also reveals that daters are lying through their whitened teeth.

Wondering about the profile activities that garnered the most messages? Being into music (63%), keeping fit (42%), cooking (38%), camping (35%), dancing (27%), and running/ hiking (26%). As an indoor sloth I was relieved to see sedentary activities like reading (25%) and watching movies (21%) made the top 10 list; all hope is not lost for humanity. (OMG if I was dating again I wouldn’t be dating again. “Anyone out there want to spend life on the couch with intermittent birdwatching excursions, pickled with a significant amount of pinot noir, and then chased with a bunch of Swedish Fish back on the couch?” 👈Undatable. Barely worthy of remaining married.

Wondering what the Fastest Growing Interests in 2024 were for Tinder? Yeah me neither. Here you go:
1. Gaming
2. Spa
3. Playlists
4. Heavy Metal
5. New music

The Fastest Growing Bio Mentions in 2024 were Pickleball (148%+) and Freak (118%+) and I’m not asking questions.

So now what?

What if—and here’s my hypothesis buried a bit too deep—we don’t know what to say in our corporate and dating bios because we don’t know what we like? What if we default to music, working out, and long walks on the beach (gaaaag) because they are easy and innocuous ways to be defined? What if we struggle with our own lists because we kind of lost the plot on our own interests and hobbies? Because we’ve let work get in the way and became a bit one-dimensional? Because it takes work to keep the thing we’re “into” alive and sometimes we don’t want to drive 50 minutes into LA to go to an indoor rock-climbing gym because Palm Springs doesn’t have one, dammit?

It’s hard to live a megawatt life when we’re not even sure what lights us up. Let’s write our list of passionate pastimes and whimsical interests down—without the self-consciousness that comes from worrying if a client or suitor will judge our life choices, because no one will ever see the list (unless you do want to publish it). What if you were hiring you, or you were dating you? Do you find you interesting?

Let’s hold ourselves accountable to enjoying whatever we write on our list more often than not. Even if it’s freaky.