Don’t you feel sometimes that we are living in a go-go-go culture?
Like taking a sip of tea when sitting all relaxed is not a normal thing
but sophisticated things for which you take out time seperately.
There is no boundary or clear line of demarcation when it comes to thinking, sleeping, eating, working, and even bathing.
And in all this we still keep ourselves in the line that we have to keep going.
There is not one single moment in your life that you take out for relaxing hobby, where you do things just for the sake of doing it.
There’s some return, some gain, some thought that you have to have even when you think you are relaxing.
In one of the Nature’s article, it was mentioned that, “The relationship between hobbies and mental wellbeing is likely bidirectional, because theoretical work applying lenses from complex adaptive systems science to leisure engagement and health has posited constant positive and negative feedback loops between leisure behaviors and health outcomes”
This means that the relationship between hobbies and mental wellbeing isn’t just one-directional. They influence each other all the time. If you’re mentally healthy, you’re more likely to take up a hobby and if you enjoy a hobby, it helps your mental health even more. But the opposite can also happen: poor mental health might stop you from doing hobbies, which can worsen your wellbeing.
So it is somewhere a continuous back-and-forth loop.
And this is where I want you to know that you have to focus on yourself.
In a way that you align with yourself doing it because you love doing it and not just because you want to come out any stress or worry.
Here are few thoughts that answers your what would be considered a relaxing hobby!
Stirring something slowly just for the feel of it
You don’t have to cook. Just stir. Water in a bowl. Coffee in a mug. Milk with haldi.
Move the spoon gently in circles, and let yourself fall into rhythm. It’s not about preparing something. It’s about watching how a small, repetitive motion can actually slow down your mind.
Try it next time you feel restless. It’s like telling your system what would be considered a relaxing hobby and that is, “We’re in no rush.”
Playing with textures – with no goal
Pick things around you – fabric, salt, pulses, buttons. Touch them. Move them from one bowl to another. Mix two textures and feel the contrast.
This may sound strange, but textures have the power to bring you into the present. It’s a sensory hobby. No achievement. Just feel and flow.
It brings you back to being a child – curious, calm, and not so caught up in “what’s next?” Isn’t it one of the best answer to what would be considered a relaxing hobby?
Rewriting a random song lyric with your own words
Take one song line you like. Now rewrite it with your mood.
For example: Original: “I see skies of blue and clouds of white…” Your version: “I see chai in my cup and laundry to fight…”
It’s silly, simple, and oddly satisfying. You’re not trying to write poetry. You’re just letting your brain play for once.
Organizing one drawer with a story in mind
Instead of dumping things randomly, turn it into a ritual.
Set an intention: “This will be my drawer of peace.” Clean it. Rearrange it. Place a flower or a note inside.
It becomes a hobby that’s physical but also emotional. And next time life gets messy, you’ll open that one drawer and remember how calming it felt to slow down and create order.
Doing something slowly on purpose
We do everything fast even the things meant to be soothing.
Try this: Fold your clothes slowly. Braid your hair slowly. Brush your teeth slowly.
This isn’t laziness. It’s rebellion. You’re telling your body: “We are safe. We are okay. No need to rush.”
Creating a “nothing box”
Find a small box. Start keeping random little things that made you smile:
A cool wrapper
A receipt from a day you loved
A scribbled note
A dried flower
Every time you open it, you’re reminded of life outside the to-do list.
You’re not collecting things, you’re collecting moments.
And that itself becomes a hobby of appreciation. So next time when you think what would be considered a relaxing hobby, this could be your go-to option.
Re-watching a comfort movie, but only 10 minutes a day
Instead of binging, choose to watch just 10 minutes every day. Yes, set a timer. Pause it mid-scene. Let the joy stretch over days.
It becomes something you look forward to without needing to be productive. A simple “date” with your joy.
Sound sketching with no drawing involved
Close your eyes. Listen to any sound – a fan, traffic, a bird.
Now just describe it in your head… Like: “It sounds like a humming bee stuck in a box” or “like water whispering to itself.”
It’s called sound sketching. You don’t need to write anything. You just start noticing life around you with more tenderness.
And that, in itself, is a peaceful solution whenever a doubt of what would be considered a relaxing hobby occurs.
Making a ritual out of folding a dupatta or saree
Not because it’s messy, but because you want to spend time with it.
The gentle folds. The weight of the fabric. The feel of it in your hand. It’s tactile. Familiar. And grounding.
This becomes a 5-minute meditation, done with love, not urgency.
Watching shadows move on your wall
Lie down. Switch off the big light. Let one lamp be on.
Now look at the shadows… How they stretch, shrink, melt into each other.
Just observe without needing to think about anything. It’s calming in a way that words can’t explain. Because shadows remind us that even darkness can be soft.
Peeling vegetables but for no meal in particular
You don’t have to cook right away. Just sit with a basket of peas or garlic or peanuts.
Feel the texture. Hear the soft crunch. Smell the earthiness.
It’s repetitive, mindless, grounding, everything a relaxing hobby should be.
It reminds you how even the simplest task can bring you back into your body. So if someone asks you what would be considered a relaxing hobby, share this idea with them.
Collecting and pressing fallen leaves or flowers
Not buying. Not plucking. Just picking what nature has already dropped.
Press them in an old book. Or paste them on blank paper with the date.
You’re not making a craft, you’re marking quiet moments.
And with time, it becomes a hobby of pausing, noticing, and preserving life’s slow poetry.
Watching people without judgment (at a café, window, or street)
No phone. No scrolling. Just look observe strangers pass by.
Make up stories in your head. Smile quietly. Feel connected.
This hobby softens your inner dialogue. You begin seeing people not as threats or tasks but as moving stories.
And it oddly makes your world feel gentler.
Making your own soothing corner or mat
Find a spot, a corner near a window, or under a fan.
Place a mat, a cushion, a shawl. Maybe a candle.
Every day, spend 5 minutes there. No agenda. Just sit.
Creating this tiny space and returning to it regularly becomes a hobby of self-anchoring, your own sacred pause.
Doodling on top of already printed newspapers
Not sketching. Not drawing from scratch.
Just take a newspaper or magazine and doodle over faces, letters, shapes.
Let your hand roam free. Add glasses to the people. Add sunbursts around headlines.
It becomes a small rebellion against perfection.
And brings back the joy of scribbling with no consequence.
Collecting “found poetry”
This is magical.
While reading anything, book, newspaper, menu, pick random words or lines that catch your eye.
Jot them down in a notebook. Don’t worry about making sense.
Over time, you’ll find that those scattered lines become a kind of poem, your own subconscious speaking back to you.
Whispering to yourself before sleeping
Call it a hobby, a ritual, or a habit.
But it’s powerful.
Every night, whisper one line to yourself:
- “I’m proud of you.”
- “We made it through today.”
- “Let’s sleep without guilt tonight.”
It’s not affirmations. It’s companionship with your inner self.
The perfect answer to what would be considered a relaxing hobby.
Something we all need, more than we admit.
Braiding thread or yarn and undoing it later
Buy a few colored threads. Sit with them. Braid slowly.
Then open it. Do it again.
You’re not creating anything “final.”
You’re just being with the process.
Twirling. Twisting. Undoing.
It becomes a metaphor for life and somehow, incredibly relaxing.
Saving nice lines from books and sticking them on your mirror
Every time you read something that moves you, write that one line down.
Stick it on your mirror, inside a cupboard, near the bathroom light switch.
Soon, your space becomes a gentle gallery of words that matter to you.
Collecting those lines becomes a hobby of holding onto meaning especially on days when you forget your own.
Making your own bedtime playlist of ambient household sounds
Not music.
Record:
- Your ceiling fan
- Rain outside
- Distant train sound
- You flipping a book
- The kettle boiling
Mix these using any basic audio app.
Now you have a playlist made from your own environment.
Playing this at night becomes your way of saying “This is my soundscape. My version of peace.”
You don’t have to be “good” at any of this.
You don’t have to explain why you’re doing them.
None of these hobbies are for gaining followers.
Or showcasing a talent.
Or even “fixing” your stress.
They’re just simple things. Quiet things. Human things.
They’re how you return to yourself without making it a project.
You don’t have to turn every quiet moment into healing.
But sometimes, in these ordinary actions, like folding, stirring, collecting, listening, you end up healing anyway.
So choose one. Let it be yours.
Not for productivity. Not for performance.
Just for peace.
Because you deserve that softness,
Not someday.
But today.