A Love Letter to Our Hobbies: How Hobbies Can Improve All Aspects of Your Life

Once upon a time, a hobby was just a hobby. It was a way to bond with others, fill the time, build a new skill, take a break from the humdrum of life, or enjoy a little slice of a guilty pleasure. But in our fast-paced, capitalist-driven lives, many people are given a message that if you’re going to take time to do anything, it better be worth your while. Suddenly, a hobby is no longer just a hobby. It’s a way to be productive, become an influencer, or create a new stream of income.

With this pressure to fixate on how to monetize every aspect of your life, we’ve forgotten the real reason we wanted to take up the hobby in the first place. At least, that’s what I’ve realized recently.

What I lost when I stepped away from my hobby

For as long as I could remember, I always loved creative writing. There was magic in creating worlds and characters, penning happy endings after an impossible obstacle, and feeling like I learned a little more about myself throughout the process. I’d spent years writing, but it wasn’t until 2018 that I’d decided to really lean in and make something of it.

From then through 2022, it was a whirlwind. I self-published two novels, landed an agent, published three novels through small publishers, and wrote the first drafts of two additional manuscripts.

It felt like a dream…until it didn’t.

In the summer of 2022, after publishing my fifth women’s fiction novel, I decided to put my writing career on pause. It had lost its magic. Maybe I was just burned out managing the publishing process along with the stress of the pandemic, overcoming health issues, working full time, and running my business.?

I thought a couple months off would let me find my love for it again. But the months dragged on, and the thought of sitting hunched over my computer in isolation for 12+ hours during the week and for hours over the weekend made me shudder. Mentally (and physically), I couldn’t do it anymore. In my pursuit of becoming a “real writer”, I’d ultimately ruined my love for it.

I didn’t realize the cost of that until I no longer had that outlet. It felt like any creative sparkle I had left had been snuffed out the moment I put my writing hobby on hold indefinitely.

Without it, I felt lost. Stagnant. Nothing gave me the buzz or excitement I had when writing. I worried starting something new would just lead to another disappointment when I got tired of it. So I just stopped trying.

Mistakes we make with our hobbies

For years, I’d happily type along. There wasn’t pressure to hit deadlines. I wasn’t forced to rework my writing to fit the genre expectations. I didn’t have the added layer of work to market myself on social media. I answered to no one, and that gave me unbridled creativity.

I made the mistake of thinking that the only way my writing was worth anything is if people read it. And in order for people to read it, it had to get published. I ignored the fact that I was gaining so many other things by writing, like growth in my skills, an outlet for mental health, a way to learn more about myself and the world, and the ability to just be in the moment.

In a world where there’s a constant message that anything you do must be productive or make money, we take away other important aspects of doing things. Sometimes, the most important things for doing it at all. And if we fail or it doesn’t live up to our expectations or society’s, we don’t just lose that hobby, we lose all the intangible things that come with it.

Reconnecting with the joy of our hobbies

For a year, I felt dormant. I knew I needed a creative outlet, but I didn’t know what. I wanted something that got me away from the computer. Something that felt physical, and tangible, and allowed me to see quicker results (which felt like a treat compared to how long it took to write and publish a book).

After a year of considering options and not finding anything quite right, I discovered an art studio nearby. And after my first pottery class, I realized this was what I was looking for.

Was I awful in that first class? You bet. But the moment I touched the clay and felt it move through my fingers, the world got quiet. Suddenly, I was transported into the little bubble I had often felt whenever I got lost in one of my stories.?

Other than a class in elementary school, I’d never done pottery. Knew nothing about it. That didn’t stop me from signing up to become a studio member right away. Since then, I’m either at the studio or working at my hodgepodge home studio (yes, I invested in a home studio too) a few times a week. Although I’m only a few months in and have a lot to learn, the joy of this doesn’t just come from the pieces I make, but from what I gain in the process.

Our hobbies are more than just hobbies?

I’ve rejected this idea that in order to invest as much time as I do in it is because it needs to become something serious. It’s that mentality that ruined my first love, and I’m determined not to do it again.??

Sure, maybe I’ll sell some pieces down the line because it can help fund the insane amount of clay I’ve been going through (and I don’t have enough space in my house to keep all these things), but that’s not the point. Instead, I’m focusing on all the amazing things it’s giving me:

A passion for learning again

There are endless things to learn about pottery and ceramic arts. From clay bodies and glazes, to building techniques and functionality, I feel like I’ll never run out of things to discover. I’ve been deep diving into research about it, and found that it’s also kick-started my habit of learning again. I’ve found myself picking up new online courses for my professional life too.

Exploring creative expression

There’s something so interesting about something as tangible as clay. You can basically make it into anything. And although I never considered myself artistic, I’ve been leaning more into the artistic side of it. I play with shapes and textures. I make things that are literal or abstract. I love the freedom I have to just create without expectations.

Letting go of perfectionism, embracing risk, and solving problems on the fly

I’m a strategist and planner at heart. With clay, I’ve learned it’s better to let go of those expectations because clay’s gonna do whatever it’s gonna do. It can slump when you build or crack when it dries. Even if the clay cooperates, the “kiln gods” might not be on your side. The clay body or glaze doesn’t fire to what you expect. Your piece can explode in the kiln (or if you’re using a community kiln, someone else’s can explode onto yours). It’s a real journey to finally produce a piece you love.

That said, it helped me to not over-plan, to learn to adapt to the unexpected, and to be proud of the pieces I make, even if it wasn't exactly what I‘d envisioned. That’s a skill I’ve desperately needed throughout my life, and I love that I finally found it through this process. I’ve learned to stop forcing and controlling things and to go with the flow. In my practice, I let the clay tell me what it wants to be and run with it.

Getting more comfortable in my own skin

For over a decade, I’ve worked remotely. I love it, but that also meant a lot of my new relationships were rooted in work. I think we all know there’s always a level of keeping that “professional air” to you so people trust in your abilities. Even in work cultures that tell you to “bring your whole self to work,” it’s hard.

However, at the studio, I’m surrounded by so many genuine people. They come from all walks of life, so you really can’t try to read the room to try to figure out how to fit in. There’s no standard. You just get to be who you are, quirks and all. I also think potters (at least the ones I’ve met) are some of the nicest people I know. They talk openly, want to share ideas, don’t judge, and are supportive and encouraging. I don’t feel anxious around any of them, and that lets me have the capacity to lean into my projects without the added pressure of keeping up some perfect masked facade.

Remembering the importance of deep work

Working an “office” job, I’m never without interruptions. IMs, emails, calls, pings on work tools, and more. Sometimes, it’s hard to carve out a few hours of deep work time.

With pottery, I find myself getting lost in my work for hours. I don’t really touch my phone, I can tune out things around me, and I can just focus. Aside from getting work done, there are other value-adds to having that deep work time. Without all the context switching, I feel a lot calmer. It almost acts as a sort of meditation, helping me reduce my stress.

Building more “work” skills

Although I try not to think about work when pottering around, this has led me to explore more skills like content creation for my social media channel that connects me with other potters and pottery lovers. It’s teaching me how to take product photos and use AI tools, which is different from the typical marketing I’ve done. I’m learning how to document the process, use new social media tools, and write in a more storytelling or educational way.

I’m finding my voice again. It’s made learning this side of it fun and engaging.

Strengthening bonds

Other than the new relationships I’ve built at the studio, I’ve also reconnected with those already in my life. For example, my husband is also obsessed with pottery, so now we have a new way to connect and grow together. In a week, a group of my friends will take classes at the studio. Maybe it will lead more of them wanting to join in on this journey. And I’m even able to connect with those who aren’t into doing pottery, but love the end result. I’ve already got a laundry list of projects requested from friends and family. Most of them don’t live nearby, so it’s meaningful to realize they’ll have something I’ve created in their homes as a reminder of us.

In the end, this wasn’t just a long love letter to blab on about my new pottery hobby, but a reminder for hobbyists to shut out the noise of people saying that anything you do needs to be productive or a money maker.

There’s a joy in discovering something you love just for the sake of doing it, and the benefits you get from it can far outweigh any money or notoriety.