I think we underestimate how important simple hobbies are.
Not hobbies that need a subscription, a crowd, or constant upgrades — just simple things you can do with your hands or your body that don’t lead anywhere except back to yourself.
Riding a bike with no destination.
Fishing without caring if you catch anything.
Walking trails you’ve walked a hundred times before.
These things don’t look impressive from the outside. There’s nothing to post, nothing to measure, nothing to optimize. And that’s exactly why they matter.
Simple hobbies create space.
When I’m biking through the woods — the same kind of rides I talked about in riding a bike just to get lost — my mind settles into a different rhythm. Problems don’t disappear, but they shrink. Thoughts sort themselves out without force.
It’s the same feeling I get when fishing. Not catching fish, just waiting. Watching the water. Letting time stretch the way it’s supposed to. I wrote more about that mindset in fishing and the art of waiting.
Modern life pushes us toward hobbies that feel like work — tracking stats, comparing progress, turning everything into content or competition. Simple hobbies resist that. They exist just to be done.
I’ve noticed that when I neglect these parts of my life, everything else feels heavier. I get more irritable, more restless, more disconnected. When I make time for them, even briefly, things balance out again.
Kids understand this naturally. They don’t need hobbies to lead somewhere. They just want to dig, wander, throw rocks, ride bikes until they’re tired. Somewhere along the way, adults forget that’s allowed.
Simple hobbies don’t make you successful.
They make you steady.
And steadiness, in my experience, is worth far more.
– Just a note from the yard.