You need a useless hobby

Creative work vs. playtime

I don’t waste enough time.

As much as I love to write, and as much as my writing is currently a fun side hobby that isn’t affecting my livelihood either way, sometimes I forget that writing is work. I think that I can spend all of my fun, open free time either writing or doing the things that prepare me to write, and everything can come back to that creative work without consequence.

I’ve been writing for myself for almost three years now, and I thought I had it figured out. My day job is the thing that lets me do whatever I want with my spare time, and the thing I usually want to do is write, so obviously I can’t ever get burned out on writing.

You can already see the flaws in this way of thinking – but somehow, I didn’t have the lightbulb moment of realizing that I was putting myself in danger of burnout until I read Can’t Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation by Anne Helen Peterson.

The problem – for me – isn’t the time spent writing itself. It’s the pattern I’ve set up in my life where so much of what I do “for fun” is secretly part of the writing process and my creative work. Because I love writing this newsletter and value being able to give you unique recommendations in this space, I can’t just read a book or a watch a movie or TV show or comedy special anymore. I always have one ear to the ground, trying to figure out if this read or watch is something I want to share with you. Even when I can flip the switch and know I’m enjoying a book or TV show even though I won’t be writing about it, part of me feels guilty for “wasting time” when I could be exploring something else that’s a potential recommendation.

“Do you know how to move without always moving forward?” Peterson asks in Can’t Even.

Sometimes I’m not sure I know. Over and over, I have to redefine the difference between creative work and creative play.  

This newsletter is a reminder to you and to myself that everyone who has the luxury to do so needs to find a useless hobby. Something that doesn't produce, isn't related to your livelihood, a pastime or work that you value and would never monetize.  

I talk about burnout a lot because it’s a terrifying and suffocating experience that I don’t ever want to go through again. If I find myself drifting closer to that place where nothing excites me and I’m tired all the time, I know I have to check in with myself.

One concrete action I’ve taken is giving myself more space with this newsletter. You may have noticed that these days, I’m letting it be more of a work in progress. I’m allowing myself to experiment with format. And yes, I’m giving you fewer specific recommendations while I’m in a season of life where I simply don’t have time to take in enough stories to give you more.

I’m also always on the lookout for aimless hobbies that are totally unrelated both to my day job and to my creative work. I spent time in Lockdown Part II learning simple songs on the piano and adapting recipes to fit my taste and the ingredients in my kitchen. Yoga is my workout routine, but it’s also a pastime that I get excited about and thoroughly enjoy while knowing I never, ever want to try to monetize it by becoming a yoga instructor.

If I want to guard against burnout, I have to find those moments in my day to exist and have fun, to rest and be refilled, without even that small pressure of “Well, I really want to mark this book as completed on GoodReads” or “I have to watch the rest of this TV show, not merely because I’m enjoying it, but because I can finally recommend something new in my newsletter.”

Here’s to a little more wasted time.

For people who need TV that’s both hopeful about life and honest about the human condition:

Jason Sudeikis is the title character in Ted Lasso (Apple TV), a role he originally played for an NBC Sports promo spot. The new show takes the absurdist premise of a relentlessly optimistic American football coach trying to lead a soccer team in England, adds a great supporting cast, and gives us something greater than the sum of its parts. A friend recommended it to me as a show that was “sweet and very, very earnest,” and I don’t think there’s a better way to describe Ted Lasso. I loved the gentle humor and the way each episode gives us a little more about the characters for a first season that unfolds slowly yet feels complete.

For YA fans who are ready for a quietly devastating and altogether beautiful novel:  

One of my 2021 reading goals was to catch up on YA author Nina LaCour’s backlist, and reading We Are Okay this past February convinced me that I will not accomplish that reading goal this year.

In We Are Okay, college freshman Marin is trying to navigate grief alone after the death of her grandfather. When her best friend, Mabel, comes back into her life for a visit over the holiday break, Marin is forced not only to remember everything she left behind after her grandfather’s death but also to picture a future for herself that might be better than anything she could have imagined alone.

This read knocked me over in the best way. LaCour’s strength is quiet plot in favor of rich character development, and this slowly unfurling story sneaks up on you until the exact right moment for the big emotional reveals. I’ll have to recover from it before picking up the next book on her backlist, and I mean that as a very high compliment.