Simply for the joy of it
There's a guy who builds rock formations by the water near where I live.
I loved looking at these rocks as I passed by them on my walks. So one day when I spotted him, I asked him why he builds them all the time.
He answered, “Because it's fun.”
Ah. He added on, “I like being out here. And it's meditative.”
No other reason. Just a child playing outdoors.
One thing I'd like to recover in my life is a sense of doing things simply for the joy of it. So often our train of thought goes to, “Wow, you're such a great cook! You should start a cooking channel on YouTube!” or “I love your paintings. Why don't you get on Patreon?”
As a creative person, I love this luxury of combining a skill with an income stream. But sometimes it feels like we've gone astray. It's the chicken and egg question, where the lines are blurred between performing an activity that brings us a sense of joy and fulfilment, and churning our brains to transform it into a source of income.
Sometimes, I just want to do things without any agenda behind it whatsoever.
I would love to enjoy a peaceful scenery without filming it on my phone.
I would love to take in a delightful dish without taking a photo of it.
We've gotten to a point where certain destinations attract crowds because they provide the perfect photo op. Some people have died trying to take photos in dangerous locations like cliffsides.
What on earth?
The first writing gig I ever got was the best to date. I was in grade school. I was approached in a chatroom on a kids' website. They asked if I'd be willing to write English diaries as samples for children learning the language. I'd get paid in bookstore gift certificates.
Of course I said yes.
I had a blast writing my diary, which I was doing anyway. And every time I'd get those gift certificates, I'd happily plan my visit to the bookstore and calculate how many books I'd be able to get. On those visits, I was happy picking and choosing to my heart's content.
I wasn't trying to be a good writer. I wasn't out there trying to prove anything to anyone. I just thought, “I love writing. I love reading. If I can get books in exchange for writing, awesome!”
Now I have all these adult responsibilities I need to take care of like paying bills. But wouldn't it be great to think of making money purely to do things that make us happy?
Make us happy. Not others.
Maybe we need to think more like children. More focused on joy. Asking questions like, “How can I maximize my playtime?”
How would you answer that question?