diff --git a/_posts/2024/2024-04-03-nascent-thoughts-on-hobbies.md b/_posts/2024/2024-04-03-nascent-thoughts-on-hobbies.md new file mode 100644 index 00000000..e1f7ed09 --- /dev/null +++ b/_posts/2024/2024-04-03-nascent-thoughts-on-hobbies.md @@ -0,0 +1,30 @@ +--- +layout: post +date: 2024-04-03 12:35:00 -0500 +tags: post, poem, hobbies +title: ‘Nascent Thoughts on Hobbies’ +--- + +I use to fancy myself a connoisseur of everything, an endless well of interest in new subjects or hobbies. +Until that got really tiring. + +Recently, I have noted that I feel like a deer in headlights any time someone asks me about my hobbies. +What are they? + +It used to be reading and/or writing. +But I haven’t sat down to write something in ages and when I tell some people about this one, they shrug it off as something that all people do. + +It could have been cooking. +But too frequently I cook out of necessity instead of for pleasure these days. + +It is hiking and being outdoors. +But shift the time of year, climate, or priorities and that always takes a back seat. + +Perhaps gardening or food self-sufficiency could be on the list. +But it always gets deprioritized because it isn’t a necessity. + +I call myself a minimalist. +But similar to calling out “being a parent” in this context, that doesn’t feel like a hobby so much as an intentional lack of one and it is more a way of life anyway. + +Which leaves me with work. +Perhaps this is a common refrain from parents who have jobs in which they have passion, but work can’t be a hobby as well because if work lacks pleasure (which it can and does at times) you are left with nothing more than exhaustion. \ No newline at end of file