I’ve been playing around with origami recently. While it is fun, I’ve had a Sword of Damocles hanging over me as I fold: I know that, eventually, I’ll get bored and move on. So what’s the point? Failure is inevitable.
I brought this up with my mother—who likes birdwatching—and asked her how she stuck with her hobby.
“Oh” she said, “I haven’t been birdwatching in forever.”
It had not occurred to me that my hobbies don’t have to be lifetime, monogamous relationships. It’s ok to have a summer fling with a particular pass time. and move on. Sure, my passion might be a little obsessive; I might spend a little more money than I should and I might drop the hobby a little suddenly but it really doesn’t matter.
When the origami paper joins the ukulele, the podcasting gear, the juggling clubs and the watercolours in the garage, it won’t be a line up of secret shames but a memory chest of good times.