There once was a puzzle of cardinals, blue jays and chickadees spread out across a table in my back bedroom.

It lived there half done for 18 months. I didn’t touch it for more than a year.

Nearby hung an old bag filled with an assortment of stencils and colored pencils for all the crafts I was going to do. Homemade gifts for everyone on Christmas! Nope. How about some nice gift cards instead?

Those crafty items were a fine companion to the art supply kit I accidentally ordered two of from Amazon. One for my niece and the other apparently for me because I was too lazy to return it within the allotted timeframe. I figured I’d make a go as an artist. It’s hard to have an exhibit with zero works, though.

These are just some of the leftovers of my waxing and waning quest for hobbies. I’d wager you, too, have the remnants of a hobby or three stuffed somewhere in a drawer, closet or shed. I remember a boyfriend who would change hobbies every few months. And these weren’t cheap hobbies. They required equipment that he enthusiastically went out and bought. There would be the initial flurry of activity and deep diving into said hobby, but weeks later I’d realize he hadn’t mentioned it in a while. One hobby down, a hundred more to pay off for the rest of eternity.

Do you have a hobby? Something you return to regularly that brings you pleasure, releases stress and takes your mind off the rigmarole of daily life? Something you do purely for bliss or that takes you into a flow state, first defined by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi as the moments when you’re completely absorbed in a task and time seems to not exist. He wrote about it in his 1990 book, “Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience.”

I reflect on this whole hobby thing off and on, depending on the busyness of life. And also when I get asked the question that always gets my back up for some reason, maybe because I never know quite how to answer: What do you do for fun?

Eventually I eke out a few alleged hobbies: reading, writing, hiking. And then I wonder are those even hobbies? Probably reading and writing would seem like a hobby to some, but to me they’re just things I do every day, like brush my teeth. So it feels like they somehow don’t count.

Nowadays, though, I have a few more to add to the list: birdwatching, poetry, photography. Those seem like full-fledged hobbies, though I cannot lie, I’d love to get a poem published and get paid for it. But that’s not why I do it.

So often we try to turn these hobbies into a side hustle that makes money. Guilty as charged. Besides the poetry, I have tried to convince my mom no less than three times to open her own Etsy shop to sell all the amazing things she knits. But she poo poo’s the capitalist instinct culture has instilled in me since birth, and instead just sells them on Facebook Marketplace for a screaming bargain.

It’s also hard to know the difference between a hobby and self-care. For instance, I like to lift weights and do yoga. Are these hobbies or self-care practices to make sure I can get up when I sit down in my 90s? Can something be both? Probably.

If this talk of hobbies is a foreign language or you’re saying to yourself pshaw, only minions have time for hobbies, then I proclaim you to need one most of all. Let’s brainstorm, shall we? Because I’m always on the hunt for a new joy-making activity — a daily hunt we should all undertake.

Take, for instance, the recent New York Times article “Working With Your Hands is Good For Your Brain,” and its sub headline: “Activities like writing, gardening and knitting can improve your cognition and mood.” Throwing a pot in a pottery class is on my list of to-dos, doubly so if there’s a chance to reenact that scene from “Ghost.” Sign me up.

Voice lessons also call to me. If I could be anything, it would be a Broadway star with a cabaret show on the side. Can one be taught to find and keep a tune when one does not seem to present with such inherent capabilities? I’ll keep you posted.

What about a new team sport for those who play well with others? Or at least need other people to keep you accountable so you don’t wind up eating pizza in your bathtub every Tuesday instead of embarking on a life-enriching hobby. Not that that doesn’t also sound delightful. I’m not particularly a team sport kind of gal, but tap dancing or hip-hop classes sound fun.

Can you find a chess club or Dungeons and Dragons meet-up? I hear people like golf. Baking could be dangerous, but therapeutic. Roller derby could be festive.

Do we even need a hobby? I vote yes, if for no other reason than you finally have a good answer to those dying to know what you do for fun. I’d feel better about answering canasta than crazy bread in the sauna.

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