There’s something special about being good at something, isn’t there? While the Enneagram Type 1 in me pushes me to the more extreme end of the perfectionistic spectrum, I think everyone has at least a small desire to be the best, or pretty darn good, at whatever speaks to them. And that’s a good thing—the world wouldn’t entirely function the way it does if our nurses put in a meager effort, engineers relied entirely on rough estimates and our chefs made food that was edible but not quite palatable. The dedication we put into our passions and careers to master a skill and push the boundaries of technology, make the world an exciting place.
Pursuing excellence could be a double edged sword, though. A cultural shift among young Americans is leading to a desire, dare I say a need, to be great—at everything. Hours of studying, working, pursuing athletics and building the “best” life leave little time for those little hobbies that used to spice up our spare time.
Even the few hobbies we might have left are constantly pushed alongside serious commitments and side hustles. Basketball players are pressured to earn a scholarship and play for a college team, a full-time job in itself. Crafters of all types are opening Etsy shops to sell jewelry, customized sweatshirts and graphic prints. Hobbies may be viewed as a waste of time, but monetizing our spare time suddenly makes it worthwhile.
What does this do to us, the overworked and stressed college students just trying to stay afloat? First of all, it takes the little bit of personal time we might find and gives it to others. Suddenly we’re playing the piano to sound good for others or getting worked up about our cookie decorating because it’s not good enough to sell. The one thing we kept for ourselves, to destress or get off our phones or just pass an hour, is now an obligation, a stressor, a job.
As the new year has begun, I’ve been trying to get back into some of my favorite hobbies. And while I’m guilty of pulling out 20 minutes of embroidery stitches because I didn’t like how my bag was looking, I’m focusing on doing hobbies because I like them, even if, or especially if, I’m not good at them. I’ve been reading rom-com books that my AP English teacher would say lack “literary merit,” but they make me laugh and dream and don’t hurt my brain or make me feel bad about myself. I’m experimenting with watercolors, even though half of my postcards are either traced templates or splotchy sunsets. No one is buying the cookies I bake, so if they’re ugly, I can still enjoy them with my friends while wearing my sweatshirt with the off-centered snail I spent hours embroidering.
There’s a liberty about being mediocre at something. It allows us to focus on the process instead of the outcome. Even as we see the growth we make over time, we’re okay if it’s still not that great. So read that silly book, color outside the lines or shoot some airballs. Find that one thing—that mindless, fun, stress-relieving activity—that you’re just not good at.