By+Stephanie+Buck

My great aunt loved to press flowers. She lived in the Northeast corner of California—the part nobody talks about—where the elevation is so high and the climate so dry youll get nosebleeds. The flowers were bright orange Indian paintbrush， delicate lupine， earthy sage.

Often shed hike the mountains that border Nevada， or the stream beds that crust1 over in summer， searching for new plant life. Shed compare her treasures to botany2 books， then label and press them for safekeeping. A few times， she couldnt find entries at all； shed discovered plant species that no one had named. This earned her small accolades3 from the scientific community， but really she just loved to press flowers.

She was a hobbyist by nature. When not caring for family， she would dry pine needles and weave them into coasters or Christmas ornaments. But she was also a product of her time. In the post-war era， hobbies were what people did in their spare time， after work： basketball， cooking， writing poetry， fixing motorcycles. These were activities people didnt feel whole without.

My great aunt died not long ago， in 2000， but she would have a hard time understanding how my generation uses its spare time. For many of us， the hobby is dead. Our work lives have merged with our free time， and hobbies are now often indistinguishable from second jobs. In a culture obsessed with productivity， the hobby has become the next venture.

After the US survived two world wars and the economic fragility they wrought，4 the American middle class discovered a new definition of leisure. The Industrial Revolution had already freed up more time than ever before. By 1950， the average work week hovered5 around 40 hours， down from 70 in 1860. Union membership peaked in 1954 at 35% of the population， contributing to job security and higher wages， and GDP rose 250% between 1945 and 1960.

This economic prosperity， together with technological innovation， created the modern corporation. These organizations offered structured work weeks， job security， higher pay， and paid vacations， but let their employees go home at 5pm.

From disposable income the leisure industry was born—and welcomed by 60 million people. The American road trip， motels， summer camps， and amusement parks all vied for6 travel dollars. People built model planes in their basements and learned to cook fancy foreign food. Youth culture emerged because， for the first time in American history， children were generally not expected to help with work. By 1958， spending on leisure activities amounted to $34 billion per year.

Leisure came to define a persons identity during this time， in many cases superseding7 career identity. Having a hobby was not only accessible， it was a status symbol. It meant one had time to relax， a privilege previously enjoyed only by the very wealthy. The “automatic nature” of many jobs led to “an increasing number of workers to look not to work but to leisure for satisfaction，”wrote New York Times book reviewer Erik Barnouw in 1958：

“The history of past centuries has been written mainly in terms of the work men did. We may be coming to a time when mens leisure activities will be at least an equally fruitful field for inquiry， reflecting not only the achievements of an age but also its tensions， frustrations， and search for values.”

Barnouw was wrong， of course. Post-war prosperity petered out8， replaced by civil unrest， oil shortages， and economic uncertainty. Though the US economy rebounded in the mid-1980s， the power of the unions continued to decline and foreign competition to increase. The idea of a job for life and a solid pension disappeared from many professions. 1993 marked a pivotal9 year： Sears laid off 50，000 workers due to competition from Walmart； Xerox cut 10，000 jobs， nearly 10% of its staff； and IBM let go 60，000 workers， the companys first layoffs in its 80-year history.

By the time of the recession of the late aughts10， traditional jobs simply werent available to many young people. And those who did work were discontent. In 2010， only 42.6% of workers were satisfied in their jobs， an all-time low since research began in 1987.

With fewer reasons to stay in one job， workers began to explore a wider variety of options. For some， these options included turning a hobby into a business. Young people turned to what they loved， what they were good at， with an entrepreneurial mindset angled toward self-employment. Its why we have so many artisan lollipops and food trucks.

The American economy has fared better in recent years， but the millennial dogma to follow ones bliss remains.11 According to a 2015 poll， older Americans primary concern about their first job was earning money or learning skills. By contrast， 57% of millennials prioritized12 doing something they found enjoyable and that made a difference. Half said they would take a pay cut to find work that matches their values， and would switch jobs as their values changed.

Instead of viewing work as the inevitable grind13 and hobbies as core to ones identity， as in the post-war era， todays professionals strive to equate career with leisure. A Quartz piece published earlier calls this new phenomenon“the journey of duality.” Phyllis Korkki writes，“The secret to a side hustle for the soul is to believe in the power of incrementalism.14 Know that 20 minutes here and there add up. We can make it a priority to find time to devote to personally meaningful endeavors15.”

Loving what one does is a utopian ideal. Few will argue against it. But its worth remembering a couple of things. Hobbies were something a broad swathe of16 people could enjoy， while the side hustle is much more middle-class phenomenon. And even those who can afford what Robert A. Stebbins， author of Serious Leisure： a Perspective for Our Time， calls “l(fā)eisure careers，”might be better off taking a break from being productive.

Thats tough when were being conditioned to love our jobs. But perhaps we can tear a page from the post-war book regarding boundaries. If the future of work is bliss， we still need to know when to put it down and pick up something else， whether its family game night， hockey league， or just being with nature—happiness simply for the sake of it.

For my great aunt， flower collecting was a path to peace outside the home. It was a meditative return to nature， something she could own and be alone with. It was not work. Her flower-pressing excursions17 were citizen science by happy coincidence.

Still， I cant help but imagine her today， perhaps earning a paycheck as she hunted for new plant species， logging18 47 hours per week among the dusty hills of Northeast California. Would it taint19 the purity of her hobby？ Or would it enhance her life？

Maybe it wouldnt be the worst thing. Then again， Im a millennial.

我的姨奶奶鐘愛(ài)壓干花。她住在加州的東北角——那個(gè)無(wú)人談及的角落，海拔高且氣候干燥到能讓人流鼻血。那里的花兒有亮橙色的火焰草，精致的羽扇豆，還有樸實(shí)的鼠尾草。

她常常徒步登上與內(nèi)華達(dá)州接壤的山上，或者行至夏日里結(jié)成硬塊的河床，尋覓新植物物種。她把尋到的寶貝與植物學(xué)書(shū)籍做比照，然后標(biāo)記、壓干，妥善保管起來(lái)。有好幾次，她根本找不到相應(yīng)的物種條目；因?yàn)樗l(fā)現(xiàn)了未被他人命名的植物種類(lèi)。這也讓她得到科學(xué)界小小的贊譽(yù)，但其實(shí)她只是喜歡壓干花而已。

她就是個(gè)天生的業(yè)余愛(ài)好者。在不為家務(wù)操心時(shí)，她會(huì)曬干松針，然后編進(jìn)杯墊或者圣誕飾品里。但她也是那個(gè)時(shí)代的產(chǎn)物。在戰(zhàn)后時(shí)期，愛(ài)好是人們?cè)诳沼鄷r(shí)間、下班之后做的事：打籃球、烹飪、寫(xiě)詩(shī)、修機(jī)車(chē)。這是人們感覺(jué)完整生活中不可或缺的活動(dòng)。

我的姨奶奶在不久前，也就是2000年去世了，否則她會(huì)對(duì)我這一代人使用空閑時(shí)間的方式感到費(fèi)解。對(duì)于我們中的許多人而言，愛(ài)好已死。我們的工作生活和我們的空閑時(shí)間已融為一體，如今的愛(ài)好往往與兼職無(wú)異。在一種執(zhí)迷于生產(chǎn)力的文化中，愛(ài)好淪為了又一種投資。

美國(guó)挨過(guò)了兩次世界大戰(zhàn)及其導(dǎo)致的經(jīng)濟(jì)脆弱后，美國(guó)的中產(chǎn)階級(jí)發(fā)現(xiàn)了休閑的新定義。工業(yè)革命帶來(lái)了前所未有的更多的空閑時(shí)間。到1950年，平均每周工作時(shí)長(zhǎng)約為40小時(shí)，遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)低于1860年的70小時(shí)。工會(huì)成員數(shù)量在1954年達(dá)到了高峰，占到人口總數(shù)的35%，為工作保障和薪資提高做出了貢獻(xiàn)，國(guó)內(nèi)生產(chǎn)總值在1945年至1960年間上漲了250%。

經(jīng)濟(jì)繁榮與科技創(chuàng)新一同衍生出了現(xiàn)代企業(yè)。這些機(jī)構(gòu)提供結(jié)構(gòu)化的工作周、工作保障、更高薪酬和帶薪假期，但還讓他們的員工下午五點(diǎn)就下班回家。

從可支配收入中，休閑產(chǎn)業(yè)應(yīng)運(yùn)而生——并受到了六千萬(wàn)人的歡迎。美國(guó)的公路旅行、汽車(chē)旅館、夏令營(yíng)和游樂(lè)園都競(jìng)相爭(zhēng)奪旅游收入。人們?cè)谧约业叵率掖罱ê侥?，或?qū)W做花哨的外國(guó)菜。青年文化誕生，因?yàn)樵诿绹?guó)歷史上，孩子們第一次不用再工作貼補(bǔ)家里了。

到1958年，人們每年在休閑上的花銷(xiāo)達(dá)到了340億美元。

這樣一來(lái)，休閑方式逐漸定義了個(gè)人身份，甚至在很多情境下，取代了其在事業(yè)上的身份。擁有一項(xiàng)愛(ài)好不再是難事，還成了地位的象征。愛(ài)好意味著一個(gè)人有閑暇放松，而之前這是只有富豪才得以享有的特權(quán)。許多工作的自動(dòng)化性質(zhì)導(dǎo)致了越來(lái)越多的勞動(dòng)者不再滿(mǎn)足于工作所帶來(lái)的樂(lè)趣，而是轉(zhuǎn)向休閑。《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》書(shū)評(píng)撰稿人埃里克·巴爾諾在1958年如是寫(xiě)道：

“過(guò)去幾個(gè)世紀(jì)的歷史主要記載了人們做哪些工作。如今我們可能來(lái)到了一個(gè)時(shí)代——人們的休閑活動(dòng)成了至少同樣卓有成效的研究領(lǐng)域，這反映的不僅僅是時(shí)代的成就，還有時(shí)代的不安、挫敗和對(duì)價(jià)值的追尋。”

當(dāng)然，巴爾諾說(shuō)錯(cuò)了。戰(zhàn)后的繁榮逐漸消失，取而代之的是國(guó)內(nèi)動(dòng)亂、石油短缺及經(jīng)濟(jì)的不確定性。盡管美國(guó)經(jīng)濟(jì)在20世紀(jì)80年代中期反彈，但工會(huì)力量日漸式微，外國(guó)競(jìng)爭(zhēng)加劇。很多職業(yè)中工作終身制和可靠養(yǎng)老金的概念不復(fù)存在。1993年是關(guān)鍵的一年：西爾斯百貨因遭遇沃爾瑪競(jìng)爭(zhēng)而裁員五萬(wàn)人；施樂(lè)公司削減一萬(wàn)個(gè)職位，占到其員工總數(shù)的近十分之一；IBM解雇六萬(wàn)名員工，這是該公司80年歷史上第一次裁員。

到了21世紀(jì)初的經(jīng)濟(jì)蕭條期，許多年輕人根本無(wú)法找到傳統(tǒng)的工作。而那些在職的人也不甚滿(mǎn)意。在2010年，僅有42.6%的員工對(duì)自己的工作滿(mǎn)意，這個(gè)數(shù)據(jù)是該項(xiàng)研究自1987年來(lái)的最低值。

既然越來(lái)越少的理由支持勞動(dòng)者留在一個(gè)崗位上，他們便開(kāi)始去拓展更廣闊的就業(yè)選擇。對(duì)于某些人而言，這其中就包括將愛(ài)好變成事業(yè)。年輕人們帶著自我創(chuàng)業(yè)的心態(tài)，轉(zhuǎn)而投入他們或傾心或擅長(zhǎng)的工作。這就是我們?yōu)槭裁从羞@么多的手工藝棒棒糖和流動(dòng)美食車(chē)。

近年來(lái)，美國(guó)經(jīng)濟(jì)走向復(fù)蘇，但千禧一代追隨幸福的教條始終未變。在2015年的一項(xiàng)投票中，老一輩美國(guó)人對(duì)自己第一份工作的首要關(guān)注點(diǎn)是賺錢(qián)或?qū)W習(xí)技能。與此相反，57%的千禧一代更在乎從事自己享受的，或者能夠有所作為的工作。有一半的人說(shuō)他們寧愿接受減薪去做符合他們價(jià)值觀的工作，而當(dāng)他們的價(jià)值觀改變時(shí)就要換工作。

不再像戰(zhàn)后時(shí)期將工作視為不可避免的苦差、將愛(ài)好視為個(gè)人身份的核心，如今的職業(yè)工作者致力于將事業(yè)與休閑等同起來(lái)。前不久，一篇《石英》上的刊文將這一新現(xiàn)象稱(chēng)為“二元性之旅”。菲麗絲·寇奇寫(xiě)道：“人們?yōu)樾撵`所需而成功兼職的秘訣在于要堅(jiān)信漸進(jìn)主義的力量。知道從這里或那里擠出的20分鐘總會(huì)積少成多。我們要優(yōu)先考慮的是，擠出時(shí)間投入到對(duì)個(gè)人有意義的努力中去?！?/p>

熱愛(ài)你所從事的工作是烏托邦式的理想。極少有人會(huì)反對(duì)。但有幾件事情你得記住。愛(ài)好是大多數(shù)人可以享受的領(lǐng)域，而兼職更多的是中產(chǎn)階級(jí)的現(xiàn)象。即使是那些能得以從事羅伯特·A. 斯特賓斯在《正經(jīng)休閑：一種看待我們時(shí)間的視角》一書(shū)中所說(shuō)的“休閑職業(yè)”的人，能夠暫停下來(lái)工作可能情況會(huì)變得更好。

這點(diǎn)很難做到，因?yàn)槲覀円呀?jīng)適應(yīng)了去熱愛(ài)自己的工作。但我們能從戰(zhàn)后一本關(guān)于界限的書(shū)上撕下一頁(yè)用于借鑒。假如工作前程似錦，我們?nèi)孕柚篮螘r(shí)放下工作，并撿起其他東西，不論是家庭游戲之夜、冰球聯(lián)盟，還是只是走進(jìn)自然——為了快樂(lè)而快樂(lè)著。

對(duì)我的姨奶奶而言，采集花朵是家以外尋得寧?kù)o之路。像是一種回歸自然的冥想，是她能專(zhuān)享并自得其樂(lè)的所在。這不是工作。她的壓花遠(yuǎn)足是因機(jī)緣際會(huì)而成的民間科學(xué)。

然而，我忍不住去想象，如果今日她每周在加州東北部積滿(mǎn)塵土的山丘上遠(yuǎn)足47個(gè)小時(shí)，尋覓新的植物，并賺到了收入，這會(huì)污染了她這項(xiàng)愛(ài)好的純潔性嗎？還是會(huì)提高她的生活質(zhì)量？

也許，這并不是件最糟糕的事。畢竟，我屬于千禧世代的一員。