Ten-Minute Talks: Hobbies and Passions

Earlier this semester, I agreed to play the clarinet at a Christmas concert with my chruch.

Now, I hadn’t picked up my clarinet since high school. When I first picked it up, I was nervous. how much of it had I lost? Would I even remember how to read music? Am I going to hate this as much as I hated practicing in high school?

But as soon as I tarted playing, I had this sensation I’d never had before: it was like meeting a proverbial “old friend.” As I picked up songs I’d mastered before that I could barely play at half speed, I had to stop myself from grinning ear to ear. I’d lost the rigor or regular practice and playing in my school’s concert band, yes. But with those things, I’d given up the feeling of burden that came with practicing for something. In that hour or so I played this semester, I wasn’t practicing for anything; I was just playing out of enjoyment. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Even in high school, band took a major backseat to debate. I just didn’t enjoy playing in the band all that much.

It brings me to a principle that I actually see quite often. When we’re required to do things, whether by a job or an extra curricular or by some level of school, it loses some of its luster. I saw many people quit sports they’d played for years because the competitiveness of high school sucked the joy from it.

What differentiated debate from clarinet, for me, was that will to go to the next level. Debate was more rewarding when I had to work for it. This was a big juxtaposition to playing clarinet, where my competitiveness and the joy I found in music just ended up clashing.

I guess what I’m getting to is that enjoying an activity isn’t enough to be great at it. There’s some other version of motivation, one that is never satisfied with “good enough,” that separates our hobbies from our passions. That drive is what carries us through failure, keeping us honest about our commitment to improve. So as I get older and begin to pursue new (and hopefully greater) things, I hope to keep a discerning eye to recognize the difference between enjoying something and being passionate about it.