“The only way to thrive in a world that is full of challenges and responsibilities is to build rest and leisure into our lives. And just as the seasons turn, the moon waxes and wanes, and the tides rise and fall, rest and leisure should be a rhythmic part of every day.”
I defy you to get to the end of this book without at the very least making a mental list of all the things you want to do. Not a bucket list, which implies rushing to complete items before our time runs out, but a list of pleasurable or exciting activities and hobbies you would like to try, without any pressure to improve or learn all about it. The point is to pick things you might like or feel might be slightly challenging (though the challenge is not the point) and to have a go. Always wanted to throw a pot? Find somewhere you can take part in a workshop, a short course, a day with a potter. Want to learn surfing? Take a short break and find a surf school. These are both examples of activities the author herself tried.
Although there are many examples of activities Karen Walrond has sampled while working on her hypothesis about trying new things, this wasn’t really as motivating for me as I had expected. This is probably because she approaches the subject in a rather academic way, analysing why we should make more time for dabbling in new activities and backing it up with research and quotations from other experts. There is also an extensive bibliography at the back. For the people who need to be convinced this is perhaps the right approach; they might be convinced after reading all the evidence. I, on the other hand, need no convincing; for me, this is a way of life as a lifelong low achiever in many fields and someone who loves to have a variety of hobbies.
I have to admit, she’s preaching to the converted in my case because I’ve never been particularly good at any sport or craft or musical instrument. That doesn’t stop me from enjoying them, though. That’s exactly why I requested a digital ARC of In Defense of Dabbling from NetGalley. I’d never heard of Karen Walrond, but apparently she’s friends with Brené Brown and has appeared on Oprah and is much in demand as a speaker. She mentions interviewing various friends who all happen to be experts and authors of self help type books, though how well known they are I can’t judge.
In any case, it was extremely interesting to read Karen Walrond‘s seven principles of dabbling or intentional amateurism. She presents evidence and quotes from experts for each of the principles, then gives examples of how they fit into the activities she dabbled in. She also talks to her own friends about how they feel when they try something new. One particular story stuck in my mind: the woman who inexpertly creates 1970s-style woven wall hangings. Her first one fell apart, but that just gave her the opportunity to do it all over again. The end result isn’t the point; the point is to enjoy doing something that makes you feel happy. Any expertise or improvement you gain during the process is an unimportant byproduct; if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t matter.
In a world full of hustle culture and monetising creative pursuits, finding time to relax and pursue hobbies may feel like wasting time. Just as many people say they don’t have time to read, many people believe that they are so busy and so exhausted when they do have downtime, that they don’t make time to take up things they used to enjoy doing or to try something new. The author mentions that the modern ideal follows an apprenticeship model of traineeship (the learning phase), mastery, then mentorship (passing on knowledge). However, many of us will switch jobs, do jobs that don’t fit into that mould or simply attain mastery in nothing specific.
Intentional amateurism
Having pursued several careers, including being a lawyer, Karen Walrond realised that, in her older years, she didn’t feel a master of anything, and decided to explore new activities without the aim of achieving mastery. The word amateur is often used in a negative and even scathing way (if something is described as amateurish, that’s never a good thing), but why is there such a pressure to become an expert in everything? She decided to explore intentional amateurism and wondered if slotting such relaxing pursuits into our lives in a deliberate, repeated way could be a type of spiritual practice to build resilience as a buffer shielding us from the stresses of everyday life and responsibilities. Normally I veer away from anything that claims to be a spiritual practice, beyond organised religion, where I appreciate the music, the ritual, the history, the social cohesion. But this practising of something physical is also something I can understand, though I don’t see it as spirituality or ‘food for the soul’. If spirituality means becoming a better person, then I’m all for it.
Seven Attributes of Intentional Amateurism
- Curiosity
- Mindfulness
- Self-compassion
- Play
- Stretch your comfort zone, just a little
- Connection
- Wonder and awe
In all, this book was a slight disappointment to me, who already believes in the premise, but it may be just the thing to convince high flying checklist productivity types to take the time to rediscover their inner child and potter about more often, exploring avenues old and new.