The lost art of the hobby
Illustration by Killian Goodale-Porter.
Lauren Prattis, Audience Editor
Lately, I have been feeling really disconnected from myself. I initially thought it was strange because I love spending time alone, but when I did a mental inventory of what I was actually doing with that free time, it clicked.
I realized the majority of time I am not in class or at work, I am consuming some sort of digital media — my down time has turned into screen time.
Recently, scrolling on TikTok or binge watching a TV show has been my main form of self care; but I now realize those activities often make me feel worse.
I am not trying to shame people out of enjoying a good TV show every once in a while — and who doesn’t want to laugh at videos of cute animals running into things — I just think these activities fall short of providing the enrichment you can get out of a legitimate hobby.
I have come to terms with the fact that television and TikTok are my default because they’re easy and accessible, providing me with a temporary distraction from whatever is going on around me — but I wish that wasn’t the case.
When I was in elementary school, I had more hobbies than I could count. I was always reading a book, playing a game or doing a craft. If someone were to ask me my favorite thing to do, I could never pick just one — one day it was songwriting and the next it was painting with watercolors or embroidery.
It makes me sad that there is a collection of the forgotten hobbies from my past life collecting dust in a box under my bed.
This constant stream of hobbies not only created a sense of accomplishment, but internal magic. It is bittersweet to think about the days where I would let my mind run wild to explore every inclination I had towards creating something. Now, I have to rack my brain to find anything I do that truly brings me joy.
I was talking to some friends about why none of us are doing the things we used to love, and the common denominator was a lack of time. I am coming to terms with the fact that “not having enough time” is a sorry excuse for why I haven’t sat down at a piano in years, or why it takes me forever to finish a book.
I realize that sometimes when I do have the time, I might not have the energy. There are rare occasions when I intend to be productive and creative, but I inevitably stay glued to a screen of some kind because frankly, it takes less effort.
The harsh reality is that I have to force myself to physically turn my phone off in order to do something that I know will make my heart happy — it is embarrassing how life changing not having this giant distraction has been.
The beauty of traditional hobbies lies in their ability to force us to slow down and ground us in reality. In times of uncertainty, doing something active that pulls me out of a spiral will make me feel significantly better than watching the same show over and over again.
Everyone has the time, it just boils down to how you intend to spend it.
