What's in a Name?
I assume you know what I mean by "hobby," and I don't need to go into the etymology of the word, but I am not referring to a horse named Robert. Hobbies are those pursuits we enjoy during our free time, and we pour a considerable amount of effort into them and (hopefully) reach a certain level of skill. "Hobbyist" and "amateaur" are often used interchangeably, and more than anything else, denotes that one is doing something, not as a profession, but purely out of interest or love (or obsession). One participates in a hobby because they want to, simple as that. Unfortunately, these two terms are sometimes used in a derogitory way, insinuating that one is not good enough to go pro. I am here to insist, though, that this view is completely erroneous and wrapped up in the idolatrous worship of money that plagues our culture.
The Push to Monetize and be Competitive
Turning your enjoyment into income, striving to be better at it than others,
these goals change the nature of one's hobby. I'm not trying to argue that there's some sort of stain on
the pursuit if there's money involved, like the amateur requirement since
the very first modern Olympic Games
(which all but guaranteed only the wealthy could play). However, the context of the pursuit changes;
there is now an extrinsic motivation involved.
Competition is a great way to engage with a hobby (and it may even be one of the
cornerstones of some, such as in sports), but I think that competing, especially at a high level, yields
a different type of enjoyment than that gained from solo engagement. Getting caught up in obsessive
competition can be an easy trap to fall into, shifting focus from the actual activity itself to worrying about
performing the activity better than others. At an extreme point, satisfaction ceases to come from the
intrinsic values of doing the hobby and is only gained from external validation and "winning." This sort
of attitude shift can cause one to become resentful of anyone else excelling in the hobby, and
ultimately draining away any enjoyment to be had in the hobby, especially once competitions start to be
lost.
Striving to grow your skills in a hobby through competition can be legitimately
valuable and enjoyable, but transforming that hobby into a source of income is much more fraught with
trouble. Here, I believe exist the most insidious prospects, especially in the current economic
climate. With the rise of the gig economy, many
people are more desperate than ever to find a way to eke out a living. A common suggestion for gaining
more income is to monetize one's hobbies. One might be nudged into opening an online storefront for
their handicrafts or to plaster their artwork on social media in hopes of garnering a paying
following.
One of the saddest and most upsetting things someone may hear in appraisal of
their skills is, "Oh, you're good enough to make money doing that!" Such a
statement, while well-meaning, reduces someone's hobby to being nothing more than a means to an end,
stripping away the fact that this is an activity that brings joy and flavor to one's life, that it may
be an expression of the self, or that virtuosity is reward itself. However, the larger problem is that
using sales as a metric for proficiency is demonstrably wrong.
As an easy example, Taylor Swift is an abysmally poor songwriter, but she's an
unparalled brand representative. The highest earning artists are the best marketed, not the best
artists. Becoming discouraged from lack of sales should only highlight that one's true hobby is their
craft, not making sales. This is an issue I was stung by, as a photographer. I tried to shoot
professionally, doing weddings, portraits, realty, and product photography, but I just couldn't find the
motivation to pour so much of my time into marketing and advertising; I just wanted to take pictures. I
not only eventually gave up on trying to earn a livable income from photography, I gave up on photography
entirely and didn't touch a camera for a few years. Maybe I'll write about my departure from and return
to photography some other time, but suffice it to say, I'm extrememly glad I came back to it purely as a
hobbyist's pursuit!
Relax
Let me implore you to relax with your hobbies. Slow down, don't worry about the
competition or how well you're doing, just act. Allow yourself to take your time and make mistakes, and
don't let any sort of pressure get to you. A hobby isn't done as a profession, so there's no deadline,
no manager breathing down your neck, no contracts or client obligations, absolutely
no stakes. Maintaining this attitude will free you up to be more explorartory and learn
more through having a looser, more relaxed approach. And of course, less pressure leads to less stress
and more enjoyment (of life in general).
We can end up putting pressure on ourselves, through imagined urgency or an
inflated sense of importance placed on various external factors (e.g. a social media audience, competition
judges, or assumed authorities in a given field). Our intent can shift away from our own
satisfaction and towards feeding others' satisfaction. In that way, we become a sort of servant to
people who do not care and rarely (if ever) pay you. Once the absurdity of this common behavior
is seen for what it is, it's easy to stop playing into the cycle, and you'll be all the better for it!
If anything, worry about making more time for your hobbies, find ways
to increase your own joy, and focus on the rewards inherent in the pursuit itself. If you notice that
your hobby is causing stress, eliminate those factors that are making you feel pressured. Your life
isn't a spreadsheet, and you do not need to optimize every aspect of your day-to-day. Don't buy into
the "hustle culture" bs and make sure you reserve some activities solely for enriching your life.
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