Maintaining Your Sanity - 101...

Webster's defines SANITY as:
The quality or state of being SANE esp soundness or health of mind. A person who can bear legal responsibility for his or her actions.

Most of us have our own unique ways of keeping from doing something very regretable to either ourselves or to others. We call them "hobbies" or "interests". It can be something as passive as reading a good book, or taking a nice walk through a park. It can be strenuous, as in working out at a gym (or at home). It can be challenging, thought-provoking, laborious, sedentary, grimy, or pristene.

Over the years, my ways of keeping all the marbles where they were intended (and in as proper an order as can be) have changed. No, make that EVOLVED. Things I would not even think of pursuing in days of lost youth are actually quite relaxing these days.
That would be where I expound on the hobby of GARDENING. Sure it's filthy, and there is definitely some good, honest WORK involved, but one thing it's NOT...and that's NOISY! Maybe that's why I've always wanted to work in a flower shop or garden center...roses never resort to reprimands, nor do petunias petulently provoke by yelling diatribes at one another. In fact, most plants kinda do well when exposed to CLASSICAL music (Sorry Jimi, Ted, and the rest of you guys).
Vivaldi for my violets & Rachmaninoff for my roses...who'da thunk?

I used to be a model-building fiend. Blame that on my Dad who built and flew those gas-powered, balsa wood planes. Whether it was tanks, aircraft, cars, or even the rare ship; If it was in plastic, I probably built it...LOL!
And not once did I ever consider the fact that the GLUE and PAINTS I was using could (if improperly applied) destroy most, if not all of my brain cells. We called that "adequate ventilation". And those were days when most models cost under FIVE BUCKS, and you didn't have to be 18 or older to BUY glue and paints. Then again, we didn't go huffing the crap, nor did we use it to "tag" other peoples' property. With arthritis yearly becoming my fast friend (thanks, Mom for those genes), I've discovered many new ways to feel PAIN, and the fact that the hands are no longer as steady as required when modelbuilding. The up side to all that is that I have developed a fondness for a good single malt scotch a tad more frequently.

Used to play Street Hockey a LOT too...still have my stick and jersey (Flyers #21 Bill Flett), and if I would have KNOWN I'd be "paying the piper" with all the random aches and pains in later years, I'd probably not have played all weekend..every weekend.
Amazing...what you SOW..you really DO REAP...(note to self...play less hockey in the next life).

I also enjoy reading, but now with these "octafocals" I wear, I do it lot less, or at least with a lot LARGER print! As an art major in school, I have always loved to sketch, but again that damn arthritis rears up and makes it more a chore than a pleasure. All those former occupations used to play hell with the hands as well (constant, repetitive actions et al). Be glad you never had to TRY to sleep while everything BELOW the wrist was one huge ACHE. I used to play the guitar (folk AND electric) pretty well too...oops, there's that pain again...dammit!
At least I still have the MUSIC....be it classic rock, oldies, or even REAL oldies (Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms). And then there are orchestral sountracks as well as movies on DVD (or VHS...or even BETA). I believe in a full spectrum of formats.

I used to really enjoy hiking through Pennypack Park with my best friend, Hank. We'd saddle up early on Saturday, drive to the park, get out and start walking...and return around sunset. We'd backpack a lunch and a canteen of water and off we'd go....destination: NOWHERE in particular. One day we covered close to TWENTY MILES (10 out & 10 back) and not even break a sweat. He passed away at the age of 54 a few years back, and I live in Indiana now anyway, so that's relegated to the cranial ROM file. Damn good times though.

I've always had a fondness for shooting (in the big city, that ain't easy for non-criminals). Dad and I used to take our pellet pistols, go down to Delaware and bag some rats or shoot at cans. And we never got chased or arrested. Ah yes, the days before people got stupid with firearms in Philly. And even now in Fort Wayne, I'm not without my "resources" for being able to plink my ass off anytime I wish because going to the local range costs money (and we have SO FEW places to shoot legally).

In my basement, I've set aside some room for my OWN "shooting gallery" (BB guns only, of course). I have one setup for metal BBs, complete with phonebooks for a backstop and official small bore targets (hint: mugshots of neighbors and rap stars work REAL well here). I also have my "airsoft" range alongside, which includes a self-resetting bullseye target (with netting to catch the strays), and my personal favorite...the "green army man shoot 'em up". Let's face it...if you can nail 4 of those 3.5 inch army men at 15 feet (with 4 shots)...you're not too shabby, pard'ner. I know some former range officer is smiling somwhere.
Welcome to the unofficial South Side "police auxilliary"...LOL!
The best part is, my wife likes to join in the fun from time to time....and we've plenty of pistols to go around. If I had more room, I could set up 5 stalls and have a pistol in each one for the shooter (like my former neighbor and good friend that moved out by Grabill who could actually DO this in HIS basement...lucky shit). Hell, he's got enough acreage to go and build a damn OUTDOOR range. I know I sure as hell would. That could be a nice personal income adjunct indeed!

Lastly, there's the home "improvements", or to more accurately describe it...."Breaking even every week by checking sales at Menards, while trying to keep the Barbarians from the gates, trash off the lawn, and bricks from entering your house illegally". Just when you think you're close to done, BAM...another "project" miraculously appears (either all by itself, or by means of the dreaded "honey-do" list). Houses wind up taking on their OWN persona in many ways, and don't need much coaching at all. They become just as much a "work in progress" as each one of us (until we pass away that is). I'm sure that debate would be worth a page in someone's philosophical treatise, someday.

So it's not all about getting drunk...or high...or BOTH (and stupid in the process like many revel in doing daily around the neighborhood here). It's not about making bad choices (except for foliage and fertilizing). It's also not about caving in to hedonistic desires that have as much substance and longevity as yesterday's weather. It's about trying to "keep MY peace"..."find MY center"...that's all. What I do to pass MY time keeps me from succumbing to my (much) "darker" side. And that's always good for me, good for my family & friends, and ESPECIALLY good for those living within 3 square blocks.

Hobbies... the kind of "work" that more fully defines who and what we are and where we are going on this adventure called "LIFE" (not to be confused with the board game OR the magazine)...we might not "want them" per se, but whether we know it or not, we do NEED them.

Show me a person WITHOUT a hobby, and I'll show you a person that is taking an E-ticket ride to perdition...

But that's just MY opinion.