Yes... I have a lot of hobbies

People are often surprised when they find out that I have many hobbies. Some look confused, while others raise their eyebrows. Many people ask: "Where do you even find the time?" or "Do you ever sleep?" 

To be honest, I understand where they’re coming from. It does sound like a lot when you list it all out: I’ve dabbled in music, painting, electronics, writing, rocketry, programming, radio, stargazing, hiking, traveling, and more. I’m always either picking up something new or circling back to something I set aside for a while. 

But to me, this isn’t about "doing everything". It’s about staying curious. Staying alive. Chasing wonders while I can. 

Here’s the thing: life is short. And the clock does not stop ticking. 

Although we don't like to think about it, we all have an invisible countdown always running in the background. We don't know how much time we have left (and maybe that is a good thing), but one day we will run out of time. It will not matter who we are, how successful we have become, or what our plans for the future are... I definitely do not want to sound harsh; if anything, quite the opposite: The fact that we are not here forever should be the catalyst to make our time worthwhile. 

A couple of folks in the past said that I chase many hobbies because I want to prove something. Well, I don't believe that is the reason. I am not trying to be hyper-productive, I am just endlessly fascinated by the world. I want to have as many experiences as possible before my departure. 

Some people find a single passion and pour their whole heart into it — and I think that’s beautiful. But that’s not how I’m wired. My joy comes from variety, from switching lenses, and from bouncing between disciplines and discovering unexpected connections. One day I’m building a small mode rocket. The next, I’m painting a quiet sunset or trying to learn a new piece on the piano. Some of these pursuits last for years; others are brief flares of curiosity that fade naturally—but even those leave behind traces: skills, lessons, stories. 

The funny part is that people often assume I’m overwhelmed. They think that doing so many things must come with constant stress or pressure. But that’s not really the case. In fact, doing a lot of different things helps me stay balanced. When one part of life feels stuck or heavy, shifting to another interest gives me fresh energy. Creativity in one area often sparks insight into another. It’s a kind of rhythm that I’ve grown to trust. And no, I don’t have infinite time! I have to make trade-offs: sometimes I wish I could spend a whole week just painting or take a month off to travel or build a robot from scratch just because it looks fun. But I do what I can with the time I have, and that is enough for me. I strongly believe that not every interest has to turn into a career or a side hustle: it’s okay to be “mediocre” sometimes. The joy I get from making new experiences is enough for me. 

We live in a world that really pushes the idea of mastery and specialization. Yes, mastery is incredible—it can open doors and unlock depth: I poured (and keep pouring) a lot of time into my career and I feel blessed to be working on the Artemis Mission that will bring humans - including the first woman and the first person of color - back to the Moon, for the first time since the Apollo era.

But there’s also something deeply meaningful in being a beginner—over and over again. In picking up a new instrument and sounding terrible at it for weeks. In getting your hands dirty with a new material. In reading about something way outside your field just because it sparks something in you. There’s humility in that. And play. And aliveness. 

So yes, I have a lot of hobbies. I try a lot of things. I’ll keep doing that as long as I can. Not because I want to be good at everything. Not because I’m afraid of missing out. But because I want to say, in the end, that I really lived. That I followed my curiosity. That I didn’t let the ticking clock scare me into playing it small. 

I think that’s the heart of it. 

The clock is ticking. Every day. That’s not something to fear—it’s something to answer. Not with panic, but with presence. With attention, gratitude and action. 

There’s no rule that says you only get one path in life. No limit to how many times you can start over. The only thing that’s finite is time. 

And I, for one, don’t want to spend it standing still.

Let me know what you think in the comment section below—I’d really enjoy hearing different takes on this!