It started innocently. A course here, a workshop there—each promising to unlock a part of my creativity and productivity that I felt was beyond reach. Before I knew it, I was under the spell of "The Course Curse," a term I've come to use for my compulsive enrollment in online courses. It felt like a personal discovery, a sort of witchcraft where instead of brewing potions, I was hoarding knowledge. Yet, despite the growing collection, the breakthroughs were scarce.
Recognizing the spell
The signs were subtle at first, like whispers in a crowded room:
- Ever-growing wishlist: The more courses I completed, the longer my list grew. A perpetual cycle of 'just one more.'
- FOMO: Fear of missing out on that one course that might change everything.
- Deja Vu learning: Realizing halfway through a course that I've heard this all before.
- Absolute work avoidance: Using courses to feel productive while actual projects gathered dust.
If any of this feels familiar, you might be under the spell, too.
Breaking free
Realizing I was more collector than creator was my wake-up call. Here's what helped me reclaim my creativity:
- Audit your arsenal: Look at what you've gathered. How much of it is new? How much have you actually applied?
- Embrace experimentation: Set a rule. For every new course you want to take, complete a project using knowledge from a course you've already done.
- Quality over quantity: Limit your intake. Choose courses that fill a specific gap in your skills or knowledge, and make each one count.
- Create more than you consume: Flip the script. Spend more time creating with what you know than consuming what you don't.
- Seek real challenges: Nothing beats hands-on experience. Find a problem to solve and a project to start, and use it as your learning field.
- Share your journey: Talking about your projects, successes, and failures can provide insights and motivation for you and others.
Breaking the spell wasn't about shunning all courses but recognizing their role. They're tools, not solutions. The real magic happened when I stepped away from the screen and into the arena of trial, error, and creation. That's where the true learning lies.
