I’ve had some of those, yes, but it usually comes after learning enough about the ‘affected’ subject to be able to do a cost-benefit analysis of what it would mean to risk seeking mastery of it. It doesn’t come as a fear of completion, it comes as a fear of it taking up too much space and leaving me with too little for everything else in which I’m interested. I genuinely don’t think completion in itself is ever possible, either from a practical or philosophical perspective.
To answer your question, I also like to write (journaling - which has slowly shifted toward writting essays for my own understanding, poetry), to paint, to draw, to mess around with Legos (which is, so far, the only medium which does an awesome job at accommodating both my artistic/intuitive and my rational components), to ponder (i.e. sitting in silence for a while and just chewing through the info I have, trying to establish new and useful connections between all elements), and reading a lot of fiction (primarily hard sci-fi). Oh, and I like to people-watch - which is somewhat improperly said, because I’m not there solely for the people, I like to observe the system of interactions unfolding
For me, the goal is managing to form as accurate a big picture view as possible. It’s a bit weird to me, too, as although my brain is famished for unnecessary details, when it comes down to the Overall (too early, don’t have a better word), it starts focusing on the essentials, trying to link everything it has gathered in a coherent mess. This may be related to how I grew up, I always had to be aware of the situation in our family for my own survival (know the players and how to play them).
Exactly, it’s like painting through engineering! That’s why I love it, the engagement it offers is incredibly nuanced if one goes beyond the instruction booklets and starts doodling with components! And there’s always a work-around, which is what I love even more in a way. I sorta’ go into a fugue state every time I’m building and end up with things which surprise even me!
Well, fancy that! I’ve recently decided to renovate my old place and turn it into my own little bunker on the ground and, same, I’ve started DIY-ing my way to success! It’s like Legos, but with more splinters! And, yes, art can be fickle once one starts focusing on skill, I’ve found. As the best example I can offer as to why skill has less to do with it than passion and openness, I’ve learnt my first ‘complicated’ bass line in a dream, on a 10-hour train ride, two months into studying the bass (a.k.a. owning and playing around with one). I basically didn’t even have skill of which to speak, just started forming it. All I had was a sense of rhythm and a desire to reproduce my favourites.
As for your last point, I must start with an apology, as I may have improperly expressed myself: it’s not stress, exactly, it’s… it feels like remembering pleasant times from earlier in my life, it really is just a benign sense of melancholy. Learning new things has always been a passion for me, the more varied the things, the stronger the kick! It’s just that the facts aren’t always pleasant (Shpoopiro was partly right, I’ll give him that - long live broken clocks, I guess…). And as for a goal, other than my (at this point) in-built instinct to try to form a big picture view, there is only the desire for truth. To me, truth is a sort of moral imperative, it’s strongly rooted in both my set of principles and my spectrum of values. Vast and varied Knowledge is the best path I’ve managed to find which leads to the truth, thus I have no hesitation.