A Simple Fix for Shiny Object Syndrome

The Lure of the New

Starting something new is easy. It’s exciting. Your mind races with possibilities. The idea is fresh and unblemished by the friction of reality. You can see the perfect outcome, the finished product, the applause. So you buy the new domain name, the new notebook, the new running shoes. For a few days or weeks, you are powered by pure enthusiasm.

Then the newness wears off. The work becomes just work. The initial vision is replaced by the messy reality of the middle. The part that requires showing up when you don't feel like it. This is where most people stop. They mistake the fading of excitement for a sign that this wasn't the "right" thing after all. They see another shiny object on the horizon and jump to it, seeking that same initial rush.

This cycle is often called shiny object syndrome. It feels like a personal failing, a problem of focus or discipline. But it’s really a problem of misunderstanding where the real work happens and what it is supposed to feel like. You are not broken. You are human. Your brain is wired to seek novelty. The trick is to know this and build a system that works anyway.

The Vast, Boring Middle

Every worthwhile project has a boring middle. The beginning is the idea, a tiny spark. The end is the result, a visible achievement. But the vast majority of the time, perhaps 90 percent of it, is spent in the middle. The middle is where you are just putting in the hours. It is the long, quiet grind.

The boring middle is not a sign that you chose the wrong project. It is a sign that you are actually doing the work. It is the proving ground. People who do great things are not people who are immune to boredom. They are not blessed with infinite motivation. They are simply people who have developed strategies to work through the unexciting parts.

You don't need more motivation to get through the middle. Motivation is fickle. It's a powerful starting gun, but a terrible fuel source for a long journey. It comes and goes with your mood, your energy levels, and the weather. What you need is a system. A structure that supports you when motivation is gone.

A System for Boredom

The fix for shiny object syndrome is not to find a project that never gets boring. Such a project does not exist. The fix is to change how you approach the work itself.

First, stop relying on how you feel. Your feelings are not a reliable guide for what you should do. Create a schedule and stick to it. The power of a schedule is that it removes the need for a daily decision. The question is not "Do I feel like working on my project today?". The question is "Is it 10 AM?". If it is 10 AM, you work.

Work on your project at the same time, in the same place, every day. Even if it's just for 15 minutes. This consistency turns the work into a habit. And habits, once formed, don't require inspiration. They run on autopilot, conserving your precious willpower for the work itself.

Second, focus on the process, not the outcome. The big goal, the shiny result, is often so far away it can be demotivating. Looking at the mountain peak from base camp can make you want to give up. Instead, focus on the single step you can take today. Your goal for the day isn't to "write a book". It's to "write 300 words". It isn't to "get in shape". It's to "go for a 20 minute walk".

This small, achievable target gives you a win every single day. It generates its own momentum. Reflecting on this tiny bit of progress can be powerful. You see that you are moving forward, even if slowly.

You don't become a writer by publishing a book. You become a writer by writing every day. The identity comes from the action, not the award.

Redefining Yourself

This leads to the most powerful part of the system. Change your identity. This sounds abstract, but it's very practical. Stop thinking "I am trying to learn to code". Start thinking "I am a coder".

What does a coder do? A coder codes. They solve problems. They work through frustrating bugs. They spend hours staring at a screen trying to find a misplaced semicolon. When you see the work as a reflection of who you are, it’s no longer a chore you have to get through. It’s simply what you do.

Boredom still happens. Frustration still happens. But these things don't derail you, because they are an expected part of the job for a person like you. An artist paints. A runner runs. A founder builds. It is what they are.

This isn't a mind trick. It's a fundamental shift in perspective. You are not waiting for an external result to validate you. You are validating yourself through your daily actions. Each day you do the work, you cast a vote for being that type of person.

Stay on the Bus

There's a famous story from the book Art & Fear. A ceramics teacher divided his class into two groups. One group was told they would be graded on quantity. On the final day, he would weigh all the pots they made. 50 pounds of pots got an A. The other group was told they would be graded on quality. They only had to produce one single, perfect pot.

At the end of the term, a surprising thing happened. The best, most beautiful pots all came from the quantity group. While the quality group was busy theorizing about perfection and getting paralyzed by the high stakes of their one pot, the quantity group was busy making pots. They were practicing, making mistakes, learning from them, and making more pots. They got good by doing the work.

They stayed on the bus. They worked through the boring middle. The secret is that the work itself is what makes you better. And the only way to do the work is to show up, especially on the days you don't feel like it. The excitement of the new will always fade. It is designed to. The satisfaction of finishing, of having built something, is what lasts.

Now, I encourage you to click on the prompt below and try it for yourself.