I really suck at hobbies.
I tried painting, but I don’t have the patience.
I tried poetry, but I prefer reading it over writing it.
I tried crafts, but I just plain suck at those.
I aspire to be a hobbyist. Just ask my friends. I speak longingly of being a lady of leisure and hobbies, with plenty of time to learn programming, sewing, French, and piano.
However, like most of us, I work a 9 to 5 and actually, I’m quite happy with that at the moment.
But, there is the itch to have a hobby. Luckily, I didn’t have to go far to reconnect with a hobby that I’ve stuck with before.
A few weeks ago, I auditioned for a play – and I got a part.
In high school and college, I ran with the theater crowd and got to take part in quite a few productions. My fondest memories of high school involved the auditorium.
Whether it was a play, a practice, a rehearsal, a poorly choreographed rendition of “Boogie Woogie Santa Claus”, the auditorium was where I made my friends, fell in love, felt heartbreak, connected with something bigger, touched the fringes of being confident, and discovered more about who I was and what was important to me. Formative years, indeed.
But it’s not my first love or what I want to do for the rest of my life. It’s fun. It’s an escape. It’s a chance for me to flex a different set of creative muscles. It’s a hobby.
Much like my attention span, this is a hobby that will come in short, focused bursts. It’ll eat up a lot of time, but will have a finite duration.
Perfect.
Tonight is the first rehearsal.
Old friend, I’ve missed you.