“Girllll…we really signed up for this ghetto a$$ world.”
That was the text I sent my homegirl after one more piece of heavy news landed—the DOJ release of the files. IYKYK.
There is so much going on in the world right now, and much of it is heavy. It can feel like walking with a ton of bricks on your shoulders while somebody adds another one at every turn. So when my girl asked if I was okay, I was honest:
I didn’t know if I was okay. I only knew I was ready to skate and be thoughtless for the next two hours.
I didn’t need to solve anything. I needed to skate.
It was our weekly open skate at John Chavis Memorial Park. The Raleigh area had just come through a major ice storm, and parts of North Carolina were still recovering. It was only my second day outside after five days indoors.
I sat in my car looking at the playground as darkness settled in. I realized I didn’t feel very frolicy. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I felt.
But I was grateful to have an outlet: a hobby I love, one that lets me move my body, connect with people and quiet the mental noise for a while. I grabbed my things and went inside.
Two hours later, I came out feeling lighter. I skated. I drilled movements. I chopped it up with the Friday-night skate community. Nothing outside the gym had magically changed, but something inside me had shifted.
A hobby gives your mind somewhere else to go
A healthy hobby does not ask you to be productive every second. It gives your attention a new place to rest. For a little while, your world becomes the beat, your balance, the skill you are practicing and the people beside you.
That kind of pause matters. It is not about pretending difficult things are not happening. It is about creating enough space to breathe so you can return to your life with a little more capacity.
Roller skating does that for me. Your version might be cycling, running, gardening, painting, double dutch or something you loved as a child and quietly left behind.
Community changes the weight
As I rolled around the gym, I watched other skaters doing the same thing—even the children. People were drilling, vibing and chatting. We each arrived carrying the weight of our own week.
Then something shifted. Sharing an activity we genuinely enjoyed raised the collective energy. We talked, learned from one another and moved without judgment. Our love for something as seemingly small as skating was enough to offer relief from the heaviness.
When we left at 8:30, you could feel the difference.
That is what community can do. It does not erase what you are carrying, but it can remind you that you do not have to carry it alone.
Joy needs a place on the calendar
Things are thinging. The world can feel unpredictable, and every day seems to bring a new surprise. Having a regular way to disconnect—even for a few hours—can help protect room in your life for joy, movement and connection.
A hobby is not a replacement for therapy, medical care or other professional mental-health support when you need it. But a healthy pastime can be one part of caring for your well-being. It can offer rhythm to your week, a reason to leave the house and a community that notices when you arrive.
Joy should not be the thing we permit only after every problem is solved. There will always be another task, another headline and another demand. Sometimes joy needs an appointment.
Find the thing that lets you exhale
If you do not have a healthy pastime you enjoy, this may be the moment to explore one. Follow the small prompting to try the new thing. Revisit the activity that made you feel alive when you were younger. Let yourself be a beginner.
You do not need to be talented at it. You do not need to turn it into income. It only needs to give you a place to be present.
That night, as I pulled out of the parking lot at Chavis, my spirit felt lighter than it had all week. The world was still the world. But I had movement, community and a reason to feel optimistic on this journey called life.
Healthy hobbies can support your well-being, but they are not a substitute for professional mental-health care. If you are struggling or feel unsafe, reach out to a qualified professional or an appropriate crisis resource in your area.
Adapted from Dawn’s original essay on Kinetic Skates on Substack.