Recreation does not have to look like the activities other children enjoy. Much of my childhood leisure involved reading, observing, collecting information and finding out how things worked. A line of ants or the connections between electrical devices could hold my attention more effectively than a game somebody had organised for me.
But enjoying an activity and knowing how to pursue it safely were different abilities. I also needed to learn about other people’s property, the effects of my experiments and how to find companions who would not destroy what I was doing.
Reading was something I chose
The classroom library offered stories about people, but it was the school library’s books about planets and chemicals that drew me in. I read about the distances between planets, the properties of materials and the formulas of chemicals. I kept small notebooks to collect facts such as melting points and atomic numbers.
This was not revision assigned by a teacher. The information itself interested me. Copying it into notebooks gave me a collection I could organise, revisit and extend.
I also read Tintin, the Secret Seven and the Famous Five. I did not always understand the human interactions, but the adventures appealed to me. I wanted companions with whom I could explore and discover things.
When looking for something to do, I would start with that kind of interest rather than a list of approved childhood hobbies. What do I keep returning to when nobody tells me to? What question would I enjoy following? A book can be recreation even when somebody else considers it too serious. It does not have to produce an examination result or a future career to justify the time.
Characters could also enter my behaviour without my consciously choosing to imitate them. When I chased bullies while swearing in chemical formulae, my mind had borrowed Professor Calculus from Tintin as a model. That unchosen imitation belongs in When My Body Acted Without Me.
Watching a world that was already busy
I liked watching ants moving along their trails. I sometimes placed an obstacle in their path to see how they responded. The activity was in the changing pattern: where they went, what happened when their route was interrupted, and how they found another way.
When I could not join sports lessons because of asthma, I watched butterflies and insects in the grass and noticed differences between plants. During a school science-garden exercise, I distinguished plants that other students had passed over as similar-looking grass. Observation had given me something to do when the usual activity was unavailable.
At home, I became interested in cacti and other plants, especially when the cacti flowered or produced new growth. I arranged plants with shells and decorative objects to see how they looked. An aquarium offered another world to study. I read about fish, rearranged the underwater landscape and watched how the fish moved, fed and interacted.
These activities did not require another person to explain every move. I could observe at my own pace and return to something that interested me. A person watching quietly may be occupied with a great deal that is not visible to the observer.
There are boundaries, though. Watching animals does not require damaging their nests, cornering them or forcing a reaction. An aquarium also creates care responsibilities that continue after the novelty wears off. Choose an activity whose ordinary upkeep is manageable, not only one whose most exciting moment is attractive.
Following connections and making things
I was interested in how wires connected different parts of the home. My father was an electrician and introduced me to his tools. As I grew older, I worked with battery circuits and made a switchbox for controlling devices such as small fans, lights and my computer speakers.
Lego gave me another way to construct things. I rarely followed the instruction book, preferring my own designs. Some were carts; others were peculiar towers and walls that were not especially sound structures. Building let me put an idea into the world and find out whether it worked.
An interest in connections can therefore lead in several directions: observing a system, drawing how its parts relate, making a model or building something. These need not all happen on the same day. Looking closely is already an activity; it is not a failed version of making something impressive.
The safe place for a child’s electrical experiments is an age-appropriate low-voltage kit with suitable supervision, not household wiring. I received electric shocks while experimenting. Knowing what I wanted a circuit to do did not mean I understood every danger involved in making it.
The playground was an experimental space
The playground of my childhood had real sand. At night, I dug tunnels and lit fires inside them. This was how I usually played with the sand. Other children would sometimes notice, stamp on it and collapse my tunnel. I did not recognise that I was being bullied.
When rain or a lack of materials prevented that game, I stood on the wooden suspension bridge and moved so that its planks knocked together. By changing how I swung, I tried to make different sounds. At another playground, I drew lines and wrote chemical formulas in the sand.
Lighting fires in the playground was unsafe. The useful part to preserve is the curiosity about structures, movement and sound, not the dangerous method. Sand channels for water, a construction model or a simple musical object could offer a safer way to explore a similar interest.
That does not make the other children’s deliberate destruction helpful. A safety concern needs a clear explanation and an alternative. It is not an excuse to humiliate someone or damage their work.
Other people are part of the surroundings
Some of my experiments affected people I had barely considered. Once, I sprayed water onto a dusty toilet windowsill and became fascinated by the brown water flowing down. I added more to watch it travel towards the ground. I did not consider the neighbour’s window below.
Before experimenting, I would now ask three practical questions: Is this mine to alter? Who or what will receive the effects? Can I stop and put it right? If I cannot answer, I need help before proceeding. Curiosity explains why an idea attracts me; it does not settle whether I have permission to carry it out.
This also works in the other direction. I can ask before someone handles my collection or joins my activity. If they take my things, repeatedly destroy them or prevent me from leaving, I do not need to understand their motive before seeking help.
Choosing company without surrendering the activity
I did not need every interest turned into a social-skills lesson. I did, however, want people with whom exploration was possible. Reading an adventure alone and wishing for companions were not contradictory.
A useful invitation is specific: look at this pattern, help build this model, or compare what we noticed. It gives both people something to do without requiring an immediate close friendship. Ask whether they are interested before giving the full technical explanation, and leave room for their ideas too.
Keep some activities that work alone, some that involve movement or a change of surroundings, and opportunities for chosen company. The purpose is to have ways to spend time that are genuinely enjoyable and available in different circumstances, not to fill every free hour or make every hobby productive.