I don't know about you but I spent the majority of my free time as a child making up stuff.
I either physically made things or made up stories or a combination of both.
My brother and I improved our fort with sticks and rocks, I talked to daffodils to cheer them up, I created and distributed our family "newspaper" (readership of 4), I made a whole slew of little toothpick dolls that lived in a large matchbox, I drew elaborate fantasy homes, I burned paper to make it look like it was saved from a shipwreck.
I wrote and I wrote and I wrote.
Then I grew up. (But I don't think I really did).
I'm a daydreamer. And while you can force the daydreamer to dream practically, you can't really force them not to dream.
So a lot of the time I think of a cool project or something I want to try, to get my hands on, to get my hands dirty with and my first thought now is: Nope. That's ridiculous. That would take too much time. Too much time creating something that has an 85% chance of being a waste of time. Waste of time here being defined as something that does not make me money, make the house cleaner, make me famous, or actively work to feed or cloth myself or my family.
Then I go about doing something practical like working on a business plan or cleaning the bathtub and I think a small part of me gets a little sadder.
I read this wonderful piece about the "Power of the Meaningless" recently by an old, sort of friend, Josh Epperson. I say sort of because I didn't really know him that well. He was my friend's roommate. He was always a very nice guy and fun to be around but I didn't really know him: turns out he now writes incredibly fascinating articles for medium.com that really speak to me. If I still lived in Richmond I would want to grab a coffee.
Read it to fill up your spirit with some joy.
I'm rereading it, dusting off my daydreamer heart and heading out into my living room to figure out some meaningless side projects to dig into and smile about because I need the meaningless.
I need to write poems whether they are good or not. I need to paint and glue and cut even though my adult brain knows I'm not that great of a crafter or a painter or a cutter. At 33 I realize I need to create in whatever form that takes me.
"Creativity can solve almost any problem. The creative act, the defeat of habit by originality, overcomes everything." George Lois