It occurred to me the other day that I have few or no hobbies. In declaring loudly a few months ago that if I ever attempted to sew again, all friends and family should hold an intervention, I officially denounced that excruciating pursuit. My horseback riding days are long past and hopefully coming soon, but are not in the NOW. Playing with my animals is a fun pastime, but a pretty passive activity. They romp, I observe. I used to bake, but those days are over.
Today, it seems, my hobby is my health. What to eat, what kind of exercise to engage in, weighing myself, writing about my weight-loss journey.
When I realized this, the fear was pretty quick to slice into me. If it is a hobby, then it follows that it can fall out of favor, slip from fashion, be replaced with something a bit more slick and shiny.
My hope is that what I've been engaged in this past year is not a passing fancy, but shifting into a new gear, perhaps even replacing the transmission so this vehicle never again slips out of gear into neutral. Perhaps once this shift is solid I will be free to explore new hobbies.
Maybe that time is now. And that is why I am sitting with a laptop at 5am. Maybe this will be the year that novel finds its way out.
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After a lifetime of eating her way into, out of and all around paper bags and maybe eating a few of the actual bags, she finds her way out. Hopefully for good. The weight loss and self-actualization process of one thirty-something female.
About Me
- Cory
- A Mainer without an accent who once spent 10 years as a vegetarian animal rights activist and who now lives on a cattle ranch in central Wyoming married to a cowboy nearly twice her age. Life is funny; let's talk about it.
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