Let's craft (a friendship)

The joy is in the doing, not the succeeding.

Let's craft (a friendship)

The joy is in the doing, not the succeeding.

Katie McVay

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In my 20s, I lacked hobbies. In a truly millennial move, I monetized pretty much anything I picked up. Anything I intended to be a hobby transformed into a job of sorts. In my 30s, I discovered pastimes (just not America’s favorite, because I think baseball is boring). I am a bad knitter. I am a horrific sewer. I am an absolutely clueless professional wrestling fan. But as a result of all three, I have found friendship, companionship and endless conversational fodder in the most surprising of places. At weddings, I no longer cast about for things to discuss. “What are your hobbies?” I ask others. And then, I tell them mine. Even if they aren’t fans of my hobby, they now know something about me of which I am pretty proud. Hobbies have also helped me make connections with people with whom I don’t share much. It doesn’t matter the differences between us, if we’re both standing in front of the wrestling ring or in a craft store aisle. Fellow hobbyists can tell me pretty much anything, and I won’t be phased. “You’re a bakery owner from the desert with a love of deep-sea fishing?” I know nothing about any of those things, but we both love Kenny Omega.

It doesn’t matter the differences between us, if we’re both standing in front of the wrestling ring or in a craft store aisle.

“You used a bobsled attached to a bicycle to get to this JOANN Fabrics?” Great! No follow up questions. Let’s talk about our favorite sewing hacks. Hobbies have taught me humility, too. As a former risk-averse child, I used to only want to do things at which I succeeded. Knitting cured me of that affliction as I have had to unwind hundreds of attempts after realizing I failed to count stitches correctly. (Much of knitting is about realizing you cannot count.) I will dive head first into things in a way I didn’t even a few years ago. I am more resilient in the face of failure. Giving myself time to fail, with no penalties and no stakes except personal satisfaction, has made the possibility of failure when the stakes are higher much less terrifying. This is the power of knitting something for a full month before realizing you messed up most of it. Hobbies have opened my mind and heart to new possibilities. They’ve reminded me that oftentimes the joy is in the doing, not the succeeding. And, most importantly, they’ve offered me connection with people who I ordinarily would not have known.