Forty feet underwater, holding your breath, waiting.
You cannot think about the deal. You cannot check your phone. You cannot do anything except slow your heartbeat and watch.
That is the whole point.
Before Eleanor, I had more hobbies than I had time for. Surfing, spearfishing, freediving, lobstering, scuba diving, traveling, gardening, cooking, trail running, e-foiling, hiking, etc. Since she arrived the list has gotten shorter but every now and then I still get out spearfishing.
It looks aggressive from the outside. You are hunting. But the actual experience is the opposite of aggression. The entire sport is about slowing down. Your breath. Your heartbeat. Your body. The slower you are, the longer you can stay down, the more patient you can be.
There is also something that happens when you harvest your own food. It cultivates gratitude in a very specific way. You understand what something costs before it reaches your plate. Not in dollars. In patience and skill and being in the right place at the right time. And most importantly that an animal gave up its life for you, so you better not waste any of it.
The hobbies that survived having Eleanor are the ones that require all of me. No multitasking. No background processing. Just presence.
That is what balance actually means to me. Not doing less. Doing something that demands you show up fully, somewhere completely different from work.
Anyone else out there with some fun obscure hobbies to share?
Blast tax: a very happy spearfisherwoman with the tuna that became poke dinners and tuna fish sandwiches for the next year.
