What is Your Hobby?

What are hobbies and do they actually help us relieve stress from everyday work and relationships?

In thinking about hobbies I started where most might, Wikipedia. Usually Wikipedia has a history page and column that breaks down by various subheadings like ‘word origin’ or ‘controversy’. With ‘hobbies’ it merely gives a dictionary definition followed by an outline of things considered hobbies under types like ‘outdoor’ or ‘collecting’. Everyone has an idea of what is a hobby and what isn’t. I never considered sports or fitness to be a hobby but the list includes volleyball, weightlifting, cycling and many other competitive sports. Ok, so I can say anything outside of work that contributes to joy, relaxation, mental acuity or skill is a hobby.

Everyone needs a release that takes them outside the day to day existence and allows the mind to change direction by focusing on something other than work or relationships. We hear phrases like “the need to recharge” to explain why everyone needs an activity or skill outside of their career madness. Nothing is worse than losing sleep over a difficult day at work or thinking hard about a problem related solely to a career move. Stress from work and family is part of life but having an avenue for release is important for managing it.  This is supported by research but most of us don’t need to understand the research to understand what is obvious to most, hobbies renew our minds.

I’ve always tried to have some activity or pursuit removing me from my daily routines. There was an 18-hole golf course at my Army barracks in Louisiana where soldiers and visitors played almost year round. The weather was warm (humid) most of year so a course that stayed open for 12 months was normal. I didn’t play the course too many times but I loved going to the driving range and smacking balls down the long yard toward the parking lot. Gripping a club and bashing a tiny white ball was strangely therapeutic even though I never spent more than 30 minutes at it. I am sure if I looked into the how’s and why’s of golf it would make sense scientifically—something about endorphins maybe. It wouldn’t matter.  I like knowing that it worked for me and nothing else could at that time.

I looked at a couple of blog posts to get a sense of how others (non-academics) think about hobbies. Typically, almost everyone agrees that some form of hobby or learned skill is therapeutic. My favorite entry was one that explained  how through hobby individuals discover quirks and preferences about themselves. Most introspection helps us understand how our mind processes events and works through problems. Writing helps me untangle philosophical knots and complex problems by examining them closer. By taking apart the separate bits that make up problems and spreading them out like puzzle pieces (metaphorically), I get answers to what seemed impossible hours ago. I am not really sure how it happens but for me, writing just works.

Some find peace in solitude while others get joy from interaction. 

Finding a creative outlet through a hobby brings self-awareness and creativity to anyone willing to engage. Who knows, it may even lead to a different career or a new way to earn money. I have a few friends who have transitioned into rewarding jobs because of their skill with music, or their detail with photography. The internet has opened up countless possibilities for craft workers to sell handmade goods all over the world.  

Find a skill or an activity that brings out talents and use it to pursue joy and a refreshing break from normal stressors of life. I know I will.

A life cut short

Depression is a hell of a thing.

It isn’t a subject anyone likes to talk about or even think about but every once in a while someone we know (knew) does the unthinkable. I’ve known a few people who have taken their lives and although I don’t pretend to know the reasons or the situations surrounding the decision, it makes me heart-sick. The most recent example is of a kid who grew up across the street from me in my community college years. He was junior high aged (13-14) when I first met him and although we didn’t have a lot in common we played basketball together and talked about sports, girls and movies.

Our relationship was difficult to explain given our age differences. I did a post high school stint in community college that ultimately forced me to join the Army. I wasn’t ready for college. I had zero discipline for school work and the will to get better just wasn’t there. In the year and a half I lived with my dad right across the street from him. I could look out my window most days and find him shooting hoops in his driveway, committed to improving his game. He was a solid athlete. I like to think I showed him a few things on the court but really he was better than me at the same age. I was a decent competitor and allowed him to sharpen his quickness by playing someone bigger and stronger.

 I needed someone to look up to me as much as he needed a coach.

I joined the Army shortly after he started high school and at most would wave to him on a visit back home. I don’t remember talking to him much after I moved out. My dad eventually sold that house and moved north of there, different part of town. When I finally did get out I moved in with my dad at his new house while applying for school and working odd jobs. I never saw the kid with the quick dribble again but would occasionally bump into a classmate of his or someone else from the neighborhood. He seemed to be popular with the girls by all accounts. This never surprised me. He was a good looking kid and very athletic.

What emotions lead a person to do such a terrible thing and force the rest of us with an empty longing? I haven’t seen the kid in 20 years and I’m sadder than I imagined. Such promise, such a waste. How awful must those close to him be feeling? Obviously the happy kid with the big hoop dreams turned into someone darker than I ever knew somewhere in that 20 year time frame. It happens every day. People let their minds convince them of the futility of getting help or that hope is not a real thing, something for other more deserving people. I am not sure how depression works per se. Is all depression clinical or is it only clinical in suicidal people? Are suicidal people always losing a war on depression or do they have good weeks, days?

I recently heard suicide described as jumping out of a burning high rise building.  Hitting the ground, apparently, is much better than suffering the smoke and flames of the moment. Depressed people see suicide as an escape from the disease slowly eating their mind. Jumping from a high rise building may ensure a violent end but staying is torturous. This was the situation during the attack of 9/11 from the workers in the World Trade Center. Deciding to leave the flames and smoke certain to suffocate them, they leapt out the window and fell to their death. It is a grisly consideration but one that at least goes a little way toward describing suicidal tendencies.

As a Christian I am doubly saddened by any news that a person has lost an ongoing battle with the enemy. Evil is always looking for an entry point to deceive and betray. The entry point for too many of us is our thoughts. I don’t mean to insinuate depression is something that can be overcome through positive thinking only. In the same way that many of us struggle to lose weight or quit smoking, others battle horrible thoughts and torturous emotional darkness. Some aren’t prepared for the onslaught. Medicine can go a long way toward helping an individual cope and maintain normality. Only God can move the clouds away and cause light to drive away the darkness, and the pain that comes with losing a precious life.  

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts in your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7 (ESV)

Wacky Wall Walkers!!!

Remember Wacky Wall Walkers? 

No… didn’t think so. They were gummy-like sticky toys that came with the purchase of certain General Mills cereals in the eighties. It was a spider I think, or maybe an octopus. I couldn’t wait for another box of cereal to get the next toy because by the time the original box was empty the spider had lost its stickiness. The idea was to throw the gummy spider with the sticky legs at the window and watch it slowly ‘walk’ its way down. It only worked a little bit right out of the package on the first throw. After, it dropped to the floor and picked up lint and hair which meant the next throw would stay on the glass for half the time. You might get in a third toss in before having to take it to the sink and wash the gunk off the spider’s legs.

I never got tired of hoping the new toy would be better than the old. “Maybe next time was the mantra.” It might even ‘walk’ from window to floor like a spider should. Despite all the evidence of the failure that was this toy, I tore through the plastic every time and fell for the scam anew. Ok…so it wasn’t a scam really, just a silly toy with hardly any value outside the cereal box. I don’t remember being super frustrated or annoyed with the lack of progress. I am sure at least once I chucked it across the room in a dramatic fit of 7 year old angst, cheated by adults again!

What I most remember is the eagerness to try again, use a different strategy. Hot water only this time, a counterclockwise method of scrubbing the carpet fibers off the tentacles or maybe cleaning the window to a streak free shine, all were options. I never quit thinking of new methods for getting the toy to perform, or to look like the one on the freaking cereal box! What was my drive then? Did I really not understand that the toy was junk and never intended to do a full walk down the bay window like the advertising promised? of course not. Every new package represented the chance to start over, to get it right, to make the toy walk.

The great thing about kids is they are rarely discouraged out of an activity despite how upset they get at the time. Their limited life experience doesn’t promise anything, hope is eternal and the future is still in front of them. Adults are different. Most of us have let someone down or been let down at some point. Ask most of us and we can tell you what we are good, bad or indifferent at. We’ve tried getting a degree in one skill or discipline but dropped out when it got expensive and difficult. We work at relationships for a while but quit win they get tough or don’t deliver some level of happiness.  

I can’t remember all the resumes I’ve held off sending to employers because of previous rejections. What happened to that determination to wash off the gunk and try again or beg Dad for a new box of Golden Grahams and hope for a better spider? I forgot how to climb uphill and got content to sit and have lunch. 

I imagine we push forward with resolve as kids because our memory pool is shallow and we don’t know that failure could be right around the corner. We haven’t built up a tolerance for it, thank God.

Adults need to get back to the resilience toward life that kids employ naturally. We give up on bettering ourselves too easy and slide into mediocrity by not moving forward and not ignoring the times we fall. It probably starts in adolescence, the sorting of talents or lack of talent into groups. Some is unintentional, no one wants to pick Eric for basketball so he ‘learns’ not to pursue it. Much is intentional though and based on aptitude or intelligence. Kara gets put in low level reading groups and struggles with other subjects. Tests tell us what we are good at and instead of working on the bad, low skill/low aptitude, we pursue the good.

Failure leads to more failure and a general turning away from activities that caused pain and embarrassment sets in. The first casualty in the mind war is determination. Once that dies we start to see other challenges the same way. Never get picked for basketball? Don’t bother with football.” “Can’t play the piano? don’t even try guitar.” “Struggle with math? don’t take physics.”

The only way to reverse the pattern is to keep trying that thing that looks so impossible. Celebrate the small victories. Keep buying the cereal box with additional crappy toys and refuse to be frustrated. Interview for the job even when it seems daunting and re-apply if they reject you. When someone says “You’re acting like a child” say “thank you!” and then give them a wedge.

Most importantly get back to a place where effort wins and hope springs eternal. A place where sticky toys are all the rage.