Hold On To Tight To Your Creativity
One must not underestimate the power and importance of creative hobbies to carry you through your studies and daily life.
As I enter my fourth and final year, I’m hit with the realisation that September only gets busier as the years go by. Traditionally, the first week of uni is low-stress, as professors tend to focus on course expectations and the syllabus instead of getting into the meat of their subject (if you’re lucky enough). This year, however, other commitments like work and graduate school seem to be taking a front seat, and I have found myself slogging away from 9 AM to 9 PM. I barely visit my room for anything other than sleeping. It feels like I am slowly caving in, and we have only just begun.
In this case, it is terribly easy to let creativity take a backseat, telling myself, “I’ll get back into it when I get time!” Wrong. We will never “get time.” In this rat race of a world, we are designed to be constantly running, prioritising high efficiency and speed. Rest, and creative hobbies that soothe and nourish the soul—that actually make life worth living—they tend to get buried six feet under, collecting dust and spiderwebs on their carcass.
Past experiences have led to me feeling burnt out and unable to write even one single email. These events have taught me how important it is to not suppress the flow of creativity in our life because they make life way more tolerable.
I have always been drawn to fictional worlds, making it my personal mission when I was little to read all the books in my school library (did I succeed?). So it’s not a surprise that one of the ways I find respite is through writing fictional stories. These are purely for enjoyment. Nothing polished, or publishing ready, just scraps of dialogue or ideas I jot down on my Notes App when inspiration strikes. Sometimes, I’ll be in class and an idea will pop in my head. Other times, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and start typing in a frenzy. These stories will probably never see the light of day—and that is okay because that is what makes it fun; there’s no pressure to turn it into something other people will enjoy. Writing lets me create worlds of my own when the real one feels too overwhelming.
As the semester picks up, it becomes more of a task to make space for longer writing sessions, but even jotting down a stray idea on the napkins in Davis keeps my imagination alive. It is also a good reminder that not all of my writing needs to be graded. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that would love to see these ideas fully form into a novel available in every bookstore someday. But, for now, they give me small sparks of joy and break the monotony of my life.
Another one of my lifelines is music. It is one of the quickest ways for me to reset after a long day. Just grabbing my guitar and heading to the piano room in Roy, and spending an hour singing and strumming, invigorates me. It makes me feel like I’m on top of the world, and my heart whooshes with the rush of euphoria after a successful session, my cheeks red from exertion and adrenaline. Sometimes, when I am in need of comfort, I go back to the songs of my childhood. Other times, I play around with chord progressions and make something of my own. One thing I really love about music is how immediate it is. Once you know the basic chords, you don’t really need to think; you can just pick up the guitar and strum one string—that is music. When I feel suffocated and like I am ready to collapse under the weight of my responsibilities, music pulls me back into the present. In those times, perfection isn’t what I strive for, it is existing.
I know, for a lot of us, hobbies may seem like they are diverting us from what really matters: our studies, and our plans for the future. But these are the things that fuel us to keep going. Writing and music give me ways to process my stress, carve out joy, and keep my imagination afloat. When I take a break and immerse myself in my hobbies, I come back with a clearer head, ready to face my coursework head-on.
More than that, the act of engaging in creative hobbies reminds me of who I am beyond deadlines and GPA. University life has a nasty habit of reducing us to a measure of our productivity, our value directly proportional to the readings we completed and the grades on our transcripts. Creativity has a measure of its own: one based on joy, freedom of expression, and the courage to try. We must make time for it, make it a part of our routine, shove it in anywhere we can. Because, without it, ruin is upon us.
