Why Hobbies Matter More After 50 Than We Think

You don't have to be good at them - or even keep doing them

For much of our adult lives, hobbies have a tendency to get pushed to the bottom of the list. There is work, family, houses to take care of, errands to run and all the ordinary responsibilities that somehow fill the available time.

We tell ourselves we'll get back to the things we enjoy when we have more time. Then, eventually, some of us actually begin to have a little more of it.

That's when an interesting question appears: What do I want to do when I don't have to be doing something else?

I think hobbies are an important part of answering that question. Not because we need to keep ourselves endlessly busy or because every activity needs to make us healthier, smarter or more productive. Sometimes it's enough to do something simply because we enjoy it.

You Don't Have to Make a Commitment

I think we sometimes make hobbies sound far too serious.

We say we're taking up photography or becoming a gardener or learning pottery, as though we've just signed a long-term contract.

What if instead we simply said, “That looks interesting. I'm going to try it.”

I did exactly that with pickleball. I took a lesson and went to a group event. I learned the basics, tried something I hadn't done before and met more people I could potentially connect with. Right now, my schedule doesn't make playing regularly very practical. Maybe I'll go back to it when I have more time. Maybe I won't.

Either way, it was worthwhile.

That's an important distinction. Trying something doesn't obligate you to turn it into your new hobby.

Go to a paint night. Take one cooking class. Rent a kayak. Try pickleball. Take a pottery workshop. Attend a photography walk. Try weaving. Go geocaching. Download a video game.

If you love it, do it again. If you don't, you still had an experience and learned something about yourself.

Being a Beginner Again Can Be Fun

By the time we reach our 50s and beyond, we've become competent at a lot of things. We know how to do our jobs, manage our homes and navigate everyday life. Being completely clueless at something can feel uncomfortable—and that's part of what makes it interesting.

The first time you sit at a pottery wheel, everything may wobble. Your first watercolor tree may look nothing like a tree. The pickleball may go somewhere you had absolutely no intention of sending it.

None of that matters.

There's something liberating about being able to say, “I have no idea what I'm doing,” and then learning enough to do a little better the next time.

Making Something Feels Different

We spend a tremendous amount of time consuming things—television, news, social media, shopping and videos. There's nothing inherently wrong with any of that, but creating something gives us a different kind of satisfaction.

It might be a knitted scarf, a loaf of bread, a photograph, a garden, a woodworking project, a painting, a quilt, a piece of pottery or a ridiculously complicated Lego set. At the end, something exists that didn't exist before.

I understand this particularly well with knitting. There's something satisfying about starting with yarn and eventually having an actual object—even if there are moments in the middle when you're fairly certain the entire project has turned against you.

The process matters as much as the finished product.

Yes, Video Gaming Counts

I also think we need to retire the idea that video games are something only teenagers do.

Adults over 50 today include the generations that played Pong, Atari, arcade games, Nintendo and early computer games. For some people, gaming isn't a new hobby at all. It's something they're returning to.

AARP research has found a substantial population of gamers over 50, and older adults report playing for entertainment, relaxation and mental challenge. Gaming can also be social: spouses, children and grandchildren are among the people older gamers play with.

There is also research suggesting that certain kinds of video-game training may improve particular cognitive skills in older adults, including aspects of attention, processing speed and executive function. The evidence varies by the type of game and study, however, so I wouldn't turn that into the much bigger claim that gaming prevents cognitive decline.

I think there's a simpler reason to play:

It's fun.

And gaming can create an interesting reversal when you play with children or grandchildren. Let them teach you. They get to be the expert for a change, and you get a shared activity that belongs to both generations.

Gaming doesn't have to mean spending hundreds of hours in a complicated virtual world, either. It might be a puzzle game on a tablet, a racing game, a cooperative adventure, a sports game or a virtual-reality experience.

There is plenty of room between Wordle and spending 200 hours saving a fictional kingdom.

Hobbies Can Create Community

One thing people can lose when they leave full-time work is the built-in community that comes with it. We don't necessarily think about that until the regular conversations and familiar faces aren't there every day.

Hobbies can create new communities: a knitting group, golf league, community garden, photography club, book group, gaming community, woodworking shop, choir, hiking group or class at a local college.

My brief experience with pickleball showed me that too. Even though it hasn't become a regular part of my schedule, it introduced me to another group of people and another place where connections could develop.

The activity may be what gets you through the door. The people you meet can turn out to be just as important.

Please Don't Turn Every Hobby Into a Business

We also live in a world that seems determined to monetize everything.

Good at knitting? Open an Etsy store. Like photography? Sell prints. Enjoy baking? Start a business.

Maybe you want to—and that's great.

But you don't have to.

Once people are paying you, a hobby starts acquiring customers, deadlines, expectations and obligations. In other words, it begins looking suspiciously like work.

There is real value in having something in your life that doesn't need to produce income. You can knit something nobody buys, take photographs that live on your computer or grow tomatoes that cost considerably more than tomatoes at the grocery store.

The return on investment may simply be that you enjoyed the time you spent doing it.

That's enough.

Create a “Try It Once” List

We make bucket lists for enormous things: visit Italy, see the Grand Canyon, take an Alaskan cruise.

I think we should have smaller lists too.

Make a Try It Once List.

Put five or ten things on it that you're curious about but have never done. Nothing on the list has to become permanent. Your only commitment is to try it once.

Take the class. Rent the equipment. Attend the workshop. Download the game. Show up for the beginner session.

Then ask yourself one question:

Would I like to do that again?

Yes is a good answer.

No is a perfectly good answer too.

And maybe, when I have more time is also allowed.

What Have You Always Wanted to Try?

I don't particularly like lists of “hobbies for people over 50.” Why should our age determine what we're interested in?

I'd rather ask:

What have I always wanted to try?

Maybe it's painting, woodworking, Italian, restoring an old car, quilting, astronomy, horseback riding, growing orchids, playing the drums, making videos—or playing Minecraft with your granddaughter.

For years, many of us have said, “I'd love to do that if I had the time.”

One of the opportunities of our freedom years is deciding what happens when some of that time finally arrives.

We don't have to become experts. We don't have to be productive. We don't have to make money from it. And we certainly don't have to keep doing something simply because we tried it once.

Maybe the real luxury of having more freedom isn't doing nothing.

Maybe it's having enough time to become curious about something for no practical reason whatsoever—trying it, seeing what happens, and deciding for ourselves whether we'd like to do it again.