Make it badly
Somewhere along the way, hobbies became another thing to be good at. Here is your permission to be a beginner again.
I would like to make a case for being a bit rubbish at things.
Not deliberately terrible.
Just cheerfully, enthusiastically inexperienced.
Because somewhere along the way, hobbies seem to have become another place where we are expected to perform.
We see beautiful finished projects online.
Perfect stitches.
Immaculate pottery.
People trying something for the “first time” and apparently producing an item that could immediately be stocked by Liberty.
And then we look at the slightly strange thing we have just created and think:
Well. Mine doesn’t look like that.
Good.
You made yours.
Being a beginner feels uncomfortable
Adults do not get many opportunities to be complete beginners.
We tend to gravitate towards things we already know we can do.
That makes sense. Being competent feels nice.
But it also means we miss the peculiar fun of not knowing what happens next.
A Teabreak craft might be your first attempt at macramé.
Soap making.
Clay.
Embroidery.
Something you previously thought was “not really your thing”.
You may discover a hidden talent.
Or you may discover that macramé and you should remain polite acquaintances.
Both are useful information.
Neither is failure.
The finished thing is only half the point
Of course I want you to like what you make.
I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about projects because I want them to feel worth making.
But if the only measure of a craft is the object sitting on the table afterwards, we have missed quite a lot.
There was the choosing.
The fiddling.
The concentrating.
The moment you stopped thinking about an annoying email because you were trying to work out why your thread had gone somewhere unexpected.
The tiny satisfaction when something finally worked.
The laugh when it absolutely did not.
Those minutes count too.
Please customise it
One of the things I most love seeing in the Hummingbird Community is what happens when somebody ignores me slightly.
Different colours.
Extra decoration.
A completely different way of finishing something.
A little adaptation because I thought it might look nicer like this.
Yes.
That.
I have been trying to leave more room in Teabreak projects for exactly that reason.
Instructions can get you started.
They do not have to tell you where to finish.
Your hobby does not need a promotion
You also do not need to become excellent enough to sell what you make.
This is another strange thing we do to ourselves.
You enjoy baking?
“You could sell these!”
You make jewellery?
“You should open an Etsy shop!”
You draw?
“You could do commissions!”
Sometimes that is lovely. A hobby can absolutely become a business.
But it does not have to graduate into usefulness to justify the time spent on it.
You can paint because painting is fun.
Sew something badly because you wanted to know whether you could.
Make a slightly lopsided clay thing and put it proudly on the windowsill.
Nothing else needs to happen.
So make it badly
Begin before you feel ready.
Use the wrong colour if you like it better.
Undo it.
Don’t undo it.
Ask for help.
Ignore the instructions for a bit.
Finish it next month.
Be pleased with yourself for trying something you had never tried before.
We spend enough of life being measured by outcomes.
Your Teabreak does not need a performance review.
Make the thing.
Make it yours.
Make it badly.