People who are happiest alone usually love these 8 hobbies

We live in a world that glorifies connection. Parties. Group chats. Travel squads.

But some of the happiest people I know genuinely love being alone. And they’re not lonely—far from it.

They’ve just figured out something most of us haven’t: solitude isn’t a void to be filled. It’s a playground.

Over the years—especially after leaving the high-octane world of hospitality—I’ve come to appreciate the kind of joy that comes from doing something entirely for yourself, with no one watching.

Here are eight hobbies I’ve noticed that naturally attract people who thrive solo. You might just find one that speaks to your own inner hermit.

1. Reading nonfiction (and taking notes)

Most people read for entertainment. But if you’re wired for solitude, you might read to grow.

Books have been some of my best teachers. And not just business books either. Psychology. History. Even cookbooks. I’ll dog-ear pages, highlight phrases, scribble notes in the margins.

Studies suggest that reading—fiction or nonfiction—can improve focus and critical thinking. And when you annotate, you engage deeper.

A study from the University of Ljubljana found that students using annotation tools showed stronger comprehension.

So whether it’s fiction or nonfiction, reading actively can turn solo time into something transformative.

2. Cooking without a recipe

This one hits close to home for me. After spending years in luxury food and beverage, I used to treat cooking like performance. It had to look good, taste perfect, and please a crowd.

Now? I’ll toss on a podcast and freestyle dinner with whatever’s left in the fridge.

Cooking solo gives you the freedom to experiment without judgment. There’s also something oddly meditative about chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, tasting as you go. It turns a basic survival task into sensory therapy.

You’re not trying to impress anyone. You’re just feeding yourself—on every level.

3. Hiking without a destination

I used to think hiking was about conquering something. Reach the summit, snap a pic, post it.

These days, the best hikes I take are the ones with zero agenda. I just follow my feet.

There’s a kind of clarity that only arrives when you’re moving through nature alone.

No headphones. No company. Just the sound of your breath and the crunch of gravel underfoot.

Research published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that a 90-minute walk in nature can reduce activity in the part of the brain associated with rumination.

If you’ve been feeling stuck or overstimulated lately, a solo hike might be the reset button you didn’t know you needed.

4. Journaling about what’s really going on

Let’s be honest: most of us don’t tell the full truth in our daily lives. We soften it. Filter it. Package it.

But a blank page doesn’t need small talk. You can show up raw, messy, and unfiltered.

That’s the beauty of journaling.

Even if you don’t write every day, the act of expressive writing has been shown to reduce stress and help with emotional clarity. And if you thrive alone, journaling becomes more than reflection—it becomes personal freedom.

5. Learning a physical skill

This isn’t about becoming a fitness influencer.

It’s about learning how to move in ways that challenge you—on your own terms.

For me, that’s been calisthenics lately. Before that, it was boxing. I know others who take up dance, bouldering, swimming laps.

When you train solo, your progress becomes internal. You fail quietly. You improve privately. It’s humbling, but freeing.

And it aligns with something Rudá Iandê says in his book Laughing in the Face of Chaos:

“The body is not something to be feared or denied, but rather a sacred tool for spiritual growth and transformation.”

I couldn’t agree more.

6. Making music (or just noodling around)

You don’t need to be a musician to play music.

Some of the happiest people I know pick up instruments they’ll never perform with. They strum guitars, bang on drums, or tap away on keyboards like kids.

And they do it purely for the joy of sound.

It’s one of those hobbies that lets you play with emotion in real time. It doesn’t matter if it sounds good—what matters is that it feels good.

7. Tinkering with side projects

Not every hobby has to be spiritual or artistic.

Sometimes, you just want to build something.

That could be a DIY home fix. A niche blog. A handmade spice rack.

People who thrive alone often have side projects they quietly chip away at. There’s even a psychological name for this: "flow."

Coined by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, it’s the state of being so absorbed in a task that time disappears.

You don’t need an audience to feel proud of what you’ve made.

8. Creating rituals no one else sees

Lastly, one of the most underrated hobbies for people who are happiest alone is the creation of personal rituals.

Not habits. Not routines. Rituals.

Think lighting a candle before you read. Drinking your morning coffee in complete silence. Playing the same album every Sunday while you clean.

These aren’t productivity hacks. They’re sacred little acts that remind you: this time is mine.

They help you create meaning from the ordinary. They turn everyday moments into something intentional, something grounding.

And for people who thrive on their own, these private rituals become a quiet kind of power—no performance, no pressure, just presence.

When solitude becomes a superpower

Here’s what I’ve come to believe: people who are happiest alone aren’t avoiding connection.

They just know that meaning, growth, and peace often start from within.

The hobbies they love aren’t random. They’re tools. Tools for tuning in, processing emotion, expressing truth, and building a life that feels like their own.

They’re also reminders that you don’t have to perform your happiness for it to be real.

You can quietly enjoy a life that makes sense to you.

And if you’re ready to go deeper, Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos offers a refreshingly raw invitation to embrace your full humanity—not just the curated, social version.

Because as he puts it: “We live immersed in an ocean of stories, from the collective narratives that shape our societies to the personal tales that define our sense of self.”

Sometimes, the best story is the one you write when no one else is watching.