In Defense of Impractical Passions

The Case for Doing Things Just Because You Love Them

Illustration by Mihajlo Stojanovic

“Don’t ever be ashamed of loving the strange things that make your weird little heart happy.” — Elizabeth Gilbert

Somewhere along the line, we decided our passions have to earn their keep.

Love to knit? Open an Etsy shop. Obsessed with baking? Start a side hustle. Spend your weekends woodworking? Better monetize it, teach it, or build a brand around it.

At some point, simply loving something stopped being enough.

(You could argue this has something to do with our chaotic economy, the gig-ification of everything, and the vanishing sense of safety in traditional work. Probably. But that’s another essay.)

I’ll admit I’ve fallen into this trap, too. When I look back at my biggest passions over the last decade, I always felt the need to justify them.

Handstands? They weren’t just for me — they were so I could write about the learning journey of being a beginner again for my fitness brand, 12 Minute Athlete.

Jiu-jitsu? At first, I told myself it made sense because I’d turn it into a book. (It eventually became so much more, but that’s where my brain started.)

And then there were the things I wouldn’t let myself do — like learning a musical instrument. I knew I’d never become a professional musician. I knew I’d never monetize it or teach it or write much about it. So how could I possibly justify the time?

But over time — and especially after spending years researching passion — I’ve started to question that logic.

When did “I love this” stop being a good enough reason to do something?

If you’re someone who needs evidence — or permission — to pursue a passion simply because it brings you joy, good news: there’s a mountain of research showing why “impractical” passions might be some of the most practical things you can do for your life.

Here are three of the biggest reasons why:

1. They protect your mental health

Let’s be honest: a lot of people are struggling right now. (And yes, depression and anxiety are at record highs globally.) Even if you’re not in a full-blown crisis, there’s a decent chance you’re somewhere in that weird in-between place sociologist Corey Keyes calls languishing — when your days feel like reruns and you can’t shake the sense that something important is missing.

Here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: Hobbies help. A lot.

A 2023 study in Nature Mental Health found that people who have hobbies report lower depressive symptoms, higher life satisfaction, and greater overall well-being — across 93% of demographic groups. That’s basically everyone.

And the massive UK Mappiness study (three million data points!) showed that everyday leisure activities—especially creative ones or anything involving your body — are some of the strongest predictors of daily happiness.

Corey Keyes, who I interviewed here, has been saying for years that engagement is one of the core ingredients of flourishing. Hobbies are one of the simplest, most accessible ways to create that engagement.

What this all means: Your “silly” hobby might be doing more for your mental health than anything else you do all week.

And honestly? There’s an argument to be made that we’d all be better off spending at least some of our energy doing things we genuinely love — not just processing why we’re miserable about everything else. (I’ll let you decide where that line is.)

2. Hobbies create flow — the “antidote” to numbness

One of the signatures of languishing is numbness — that distant, muted state where even your own life feels hard to care about. And one of the most reliable ways to feel awake again is to get into flow.

Flow is that state where time disappears, your mind stops glitching, you’re fully present, and for a moment everything in your life makes sense. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, who coined the term, found that flow shows up most often in the kinds of activities we think of as hobbies: music, art, crafts, movement, tinkering, learning new skills — the things we do because not because we have to to be a fully functioning adult, but because they delight us.

Some people understand this intuitively.

When I interviewed autistic and ADHD author Pete Wharmby, he talked about embracing passions like building LEGOs, diving into Titanic rabbit holes, and playing his favorite 90s video games — none of which earn him money or advance his career.

For him (and for so many neurodivergent people), flow is a kind of lifeline. When you’re immersed in something you love, the fog of daily confusion — the social decoding, the sensory overwhelm, the constant background noise of “try to appear normal” — finally lifts. You become focused, articulate, alive. Your brain comes online in a way it rarely does in everyday life. And while neurodivergent people often feel this contrast more sharply, I think this is true for most of us.

Flow states do more than just feel good. They’re linked to increased motivation, better mood, reduced rumination, even improved physical health and longevity.

Wharmby put it perfectly:

“I think flow might be the natural state that our brains want to be in.”

And if that’s true, then the 20 minutes you spend getting lost in your “impractical” passion might just be the most practical, restorative part of your entire day.

3. They give our lives meaning

When I look back at my life so far, two threads stand out as the most meaningful: the people I’ve loved and the pursuits I’ve thrown myself into.

What’s interesting about this is that there’s no real distinction in my mind between the pursuits that were “career-oriented” and the ones that were “just passions.” My journey to learn handstands, for example, remains one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done. I poured thousands of hours (seriously) into it. I fell (hard) over and over, bruised everything, got back up, and kept going — despite having absolutely zero natural talent or gymnastics background.

But that’s the point: meaning doesn’t come from talent or outcomes. It comes from devotion.

In psychology, Self-Determination Theory shows that the deepest form of motivation comes from three things: autonomy, mastery, and connection. Hobbies are one of the purest sources of all three. No one can force you into a passion — the pull always comes from within.

Research on eudaimonia — the “engaged, meaningful life” — echoes this. It shows that meaning comes far more from the doing than from the outcome. Which is why how you spend your days matters much more than whatever end result you’re chasing.

It makes sense, then, that hobbyists consistently report higher day-to-day meaning in life than people who don’t have any passion pursuits at all — even when their hobbies are completely private, impractical, or never see the light of day.

My friend and psychologist Scott Barry Kaufman puts it beautifully in Wired to Create:

“The hobbies and personal passions we cultivate on our own… play a crucial role in shaping meaning in our lives. The creative person is constantly seeking to discover himself, to remodel his own identity, and to find meaning in the universe through what he creates.”

In other words: Your passions don’t have to be your destiny to shape your life. They just have to matter to you.

A few other reasons (that I’ll save for another day)

There are so many other ways “impractical” passions support us. They deepen friendships and help us find our people. They boost creativity and make us better at our actual jobs. They regulate our nervous systems. They even predict better physical health and longer lives.

But even if none of that were true, even if the research didn’t exist at all, it would still be enough to love something simply because it lights you up.

Joy is a valid reason. Curiosity is a valid reason. Being alive is a valid reason.

Your passions don’t need to perform. They don’t need to become your calling, your brand, or your side hustle.

They just need room.

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