Does That Count as a Good Hobby?

In childhood friendship books, on dating apps, during workshop icebreakers, at party small talk – everywhere you're asked what you do "on the side." What do you say? What are my hobbies, actually? Does watching TV count? Walking the dog? Grabbing drinks with friends? Or does it have to be something "active" – playing tennis, knitting sweaters, volunteering with the fire brigade?

Looking at it from the outside, there seems to be a clear hierarchy. When someone says they're in the volunteer fire brigade, fly paragliders, or carve wooden sculptures, the response is often an admiring "Wow, what a cool hobby." When someone says "My hobby is eating," there's usually a smile, but many secretly think: "That doesn't really count." But why not, actually?

The reason lies not in the activity itself, but in how consciously we experience it. When we imagine a hobby, we usually think of something that fully absorbs us – physically, mentally, or both. Something that demands our full attention.

When we're paragliding or building a piece of furniture, we're not simultaneously thinking about the shopping list or the next meeting. The activity demands all our attention, and that's what makes it feel so good. Being "in the here and now" always sounds so esoteric and abstract, but it is actually demonstrably associated with greater well-being, emotional balance, and inner calm.

Psychological research calls this state Mindful Attention – a conscious, non-judgmental awareness of what is happening right now. Studies show that people who experience such moments more often ruminate less, feel less overwhelmed, and are overall more satisfied with their lives. They feel more autonomous, more connected, and more competent – strengthened in three core psychological needs (Felsman et al. 2017; Kiken et al. 2017).

And in which activities can you practice Mindful Attention? Quite simply – in all of them. However, there are activities where you simply can't afford to let your mind wander. During a volunteer fire brigade operation, while skydiving, during interval training – the body and the activity demand all your attention. Thinking about grocery shopping during tennis? Point lost. Thinking about yesterday's argument while doing woodwork? Wrong hole drilled. While crocheting, reading, eating, lying on the sofa with a cup of tea – here it's easier to drift off.

But what if you don't? What if you're fully present with your cup of tea? When the thoughts grow quiet, the tea radiates warmth into your hand, the sun is setting, and you notice with delight that the sparrows have discovered the birdhouse on your balcony? Then that is a fantastic hobby.

This is precisely the difference from activities like endlessly scrolling through Instagram Reels or TikTok Shorts: here too, time passes quickly, here too you're "absorbed" – but not in the present moment. The brain is in stimulus-response mode, waiting for the next hit, judging, skimming, searching. Instead of calm, inner restlessness emerges. The activity isn't experienced – it's rushed through. That's why you often feel emptier afterward than before.

Because the opposite of present attention is mind-wandering, and that is demonstrably linked to unhappiness. Whoever thinks about the next appointment while eating, quickly checks messages while watching a series, or mentally replays a heated discussion from the morning while going for a walk, is outwardly busy but never truly there on the inside. Studies show that ruminative thinking – the repeated circling around worries or problems – significantly reduces well-being, regardless of how pleasant the activity itself might be (Crosswell et al. 2020). Even beautiful experiences bring less joy when you don't truly experience them.

And now we also know what makes a good hobby. Not that it's particularly original, but that you become immersed in it rather than letting yourself be distracted. Watching TV, eating, chilling – all of this can be a hobby. But only if you don't do it on autopilot. When you get so caught up in a film that you forget everything else. When you consciously taste every bite and how the flavors unfold. When you don't just let yourself be numbed on the sofa, but pause, look, feel.

A hobby doesn't have to be unusual. It doesn't have to be productive. It doesn't have to be visible. It doesn't have to improve you. It just has to pull you out of autopilot for a moment.