The Joy of Loving a Craft

Dispatch #6 from the Human Aliveness Lab

Illustration by Mihajlo Stojanovic

This is Dispatch #6 in a series from the Human Aliveness Lab — raw, personal reflections exploring what it really means to feel alive. You can read the whole series here.

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Hi friends,

Last night, I was sitting cross-legged on the mats at my jiu-jitsu academy, just like I have most evenings for the past three years. My coach was breaking down the mechanics of a position called de la riva guard — which, unless you train, probably sounds like nonsense.

As I looked around at the thirty or so students in class, I noticed something that made my heart swell: everyone was laser-focused. No phones out. No side chatter. Just full attention, full presence. Not because we had to be there. Not even to burn calories or earn some external reward. We were there because every one of us loves the craft of jiu-jitsu.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what craft adds to our lives.

Three years ago, I didn’t have one. I wasn’t writing much. I’d drifted away from boxing, my previous sport. I felt aimless — like I had no outlet, no place to pour myself into. It was an emotionally flat time (see: languishing), and I set out on a journey to find out why.

That journey led me back to writing, to becoming passionate about passion — and eventually, to jiu-jitsu.

That last one has taken up thousands of hours (and a lot of dollars). Some people might think it’s crazy. Impractical. A waste of time.

I know it’s not.

Because crafts — whether it’s writing poetry, playing bass, fly-fishing, roller skating, or anything else that asks for your full attention — add something irreplaceable to our lives.

Even if they don’t make us money. Even if they seem a little obsessive or impractical from the outside.

There’s a particular kind of nourishment that comes from letting yourself care deeply about something. Especially something hard. Something that requires time, focus, and love. A craft gives you a place to channel your energy — and a place to come back to. It’s a thread that holds you when everything else feels scattered.

We don’t talk about this enough. In our culture, hobbies are often treated as afterthoughts. “Real” adults are expected to prioritize work, family, and logistics. Everything else — play, practice, passion — gets pushed to the side.

But the people I know who seem most alive? They’re the ones who’ve given themselves permission to go deep on something that matters to them — even if it’s not practical, profitable, or impressive to anyone else.

Having a craft gives you something to master. And mastery is one of the deepest human satisfactions. Psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan call it “competence” — one of our core psychological needs. We need to feel effective. Capable. Like we’re growing. Not just checking boxes or getting by.

A craft also gives you a way out of your own head. I’ve seen this in mental health work, especially around OCD. When the mind spirals, one of the best things you can do is fully engage with something outside of it. Something that requires your full attention.

For me, that’s often physical — jiu-jitsu or a workout. But it could be painting. Gardening. Piano. Coding. Carpentry. Building Legos. Whatever makes time disappear.

Craft teaches you about yourself. It mirrors your patterns. It humbles you. It shows you what you do under pressure, how you learn, what lights you up. And the more you stick with it, the more it gives you back — not just in skill, but in self-trust, identity, and joy.

So if you’ve been feeling flat, aimless, or quietly off — maybe you don’t need to overhaul your whole life. Maybe you just need to give yourself permission to love something. To go all in on your weird little thing. To let it matter.

Let yourself care. Let yourself practice. Let yourself have a craft.

See you out there,
Krista

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