On not-doing and undoing 🎨

I searched for a hobby and here's what I found.

I’m 41 years old and, apart from reading, I have never had a hobby.

Sure, I love to walk, hike, bike, paddle, camp and spend time outside whenever possible. But, for me, this feels part vocational, part existential — perhaps also as close as this Canadian can get to what the Nordic call friluftsliv. It’s a way of life.

And then there are the activities that might be confused for a hobby, such as cooking and gardening. I love to cook and experiment with new recipes as much as I love tending to my plants, both indoors and out. Yet, these activities come with a certain degree of obligation, which siphons off some of the pleasure that I think distinguishes a hobby from, say, a hustle. One way or another, I must feed my family and tend my plants. In some regards, it doesn’t matter how creatively I get the job done (Martha Stewart would likely object).

Finally, there is the nature of my work — like this article I’m writing right now — that has leisurely aspects. I love to do it, but I am doing it for others, as much as myself. That responsibility carries weight that I welcome into my life because meaningful work is worth it.

For years, I have craved a hobby the way I crave a vacation, or time in the backcountry — ever yearning for not-doing time in which we rebel from our fast-paced productivity culture. For various reasons, I didn’t feel I even had time for a hobby until I faced the truth: we make time for what we care about. And then this past winter, a timely book sealed the deal: Martha Beck’s Beyond Anxiety. It’s about anxiety, sure, but it’s mostly about both the power and importance of creativity and the tremendous benefits of tapping the brain’s right hemisphere. After reading the book, I committed to carving out more time for right-brain activities, which can look like using my sketchbook while I’m travelling as much as thinking outside the box while problem-solving.

But that craving for a hobby lingered, that is until I saw an ad for a plein-air wildflower watercolour painting class being hosted not only in my town but right in my neighbourhood. Without hesitation, I signed up.

In a matter of weeks, my passion for watercolours has ignited in me a motivation to create time for this newfound hobby. It’s like a jumpstart on a car battery. I now find myself deep-diving on YouTube through tutorials about colour theory, brush techniques, art supplies, and more. I’m amassing supplies — paper, paints, brushes, waterproof pens, masking fluid — and wishing for extra space in our house where I could set them up permanently. When I sit down to paint, I find myself dropping quickly into a flow state that is hard to interrupt.

I think I’ve found my hobby. Or, maybe it found me.

Experimenting with techniques and colour values. Photo: Meghan J. Ward.

And yet, the value of it is also the opportunity to be a student again. Watercolour isn’t an easy medium. I can tell it will take practice and patience to begin executing what I have in mind. Right now, watercolour painting is a beautiful way of not-doing and a rare type of activity that serves the singular purpose of enjoyment, despite its steep learning curve. I make mistake after mistake, sometimes at the pencil drawing phase, which is easier to remedy. But then there was the cardinal I tried to paint yesterday, and it came out looking like a red hedgehog. My enjoyment doesn’t hinge entirely on ease; it’s in the challenges that I also find pleasure.

I can already see how, in the not-doing, I am undoing parts of myself that can get wrapped up in performance, efficiency, and achievement. My work as a writer is playful and fulfilling but also depends on my executing well if I’m to maintain a reputation and fulfill my client’s needs. My work running our photography company must be efficient if we’re to keep our business sustainable and able to support our family. But there is room in my life for pure play. And I suspect a byproduct of taking time to play — for a hobby — is that I become more focused and discerning in other aspects of my life.

I’m realizing as I write that this ‘quest’ for a hobby is symptomatic of an overarching theme in my life: a recalibration of my values, and thus a shift in how I focus my energy and time. After two decades of high-level outputs, entrepreneurship, and firing all cylinders, I’m moving towards greater intention and slowness, simple adventures, quietude and mindfulness. And morning sessions where I just sit and listen to birds.

Perhaps it’s part of a midlife unravelling. Perhaps this slowing down is the inevitable fallout — a hard-earned lesson — of a life lived in too many directions at once. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I’ve come to this place where I can just be where my feet are and savour the small things instead of always striving for something beyond.

Ambition is in my DNA, but reaching for my dreams can come from a heart-centred space. Like watercolours: the pigment will spread where the water carries it. When I’m in that flow, even the smallest, seemingly insignificant strokes will create the most beautiful picture.

Meghan J. Ward is an outdoor, travel and adventure writer based in Banff, Canada, a Fellow of the Royal Canadian Geographical Society, and the author of Lights to Guide Me Home. Meghan has written several books and produced content for films, anthologies, blogs and some of North America’s top outdoor, fitness and adventure publications.

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What’s caught my attention lately… ✨

• Fire Weather, by John Vaillant - This propulsive book tells the story of the 2016 fire that engulfed Fort McMurray while investigating the cause of a warming planet and increasingly unpredictable fire weather. Of considerable interest is the unmistakable connection between Fort McMurray’s oil/bitumen industries and their contributions to the conditions that primed that city for destruction. Considering the wildfire season we are already facing here in Canada, this book will continue to be an important contribution to our conversations about climate change.

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Check these out too… 🙌

Lights to Guide Me Home - my memoir (reviews welcome on Amazon and Goodreads)

The Wonders That I Find - my children’s book

My Email Newsletter - updates about my books, projects, and 1:1 coaching

Find me: Facebook | Instagram

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I am an eight-generation Canadian and a descendent of British, Scottish and German settlers living, working, and recreating outdoors in Treaty 7 Territory — the homelands and gathering place for the Niitsitapi from the Blackfoot Confederacy, including the Siksika, Kainai, and Piikani First Nations; the Îyârhe Nakoda of the Chiniki, Bearspaw, and Goodstoney First Nations; the Tsuut’ina First Nation; the homeland of the Métis and Otipemisiwak Métis Government of the Métis Nation of Alberta, and many others. I am doing my utmost, both personally and professionally, to deepen my understanding of the history of Indigenous peoples and the impacts of colonialism — past and present.