The other day I went for a walk around the block for the first time in a while. It’s something I did for a time and then for several reasons, mostly to do with health, didn’t. For me it’s the mental equivalent of having a shower with the added benefit of not having to dry my hair, in other words, it’s a place I go to with the intent of generating shower thoughts.

During my walk, away from the forces pulling me in all manner of directions, none of which have anything to do with amateur radio, away from my keyboard, away from my screen, away from technology challenges, although I’ll admit that my phone was in my pocket, I took about twenty minutes to walk and daydream, to follow my thoughts and to see where they’d end up.

I got to this point because sitting at my desk I was getting nowhere trying to put together my thoughts in any sequence at least resembling coherence. While it’s happened before, it’s not something that occurs often. The day before I’d started writing, almost as-if possessed, about what amateur radio means to me, but during my walk I started wondering about the people who leave this hobby and the community embracing it.

I’ve often said that F-troop is a weekly net for new and returning amateurs, both people who have a license that’s still hot off the printer, and others who have one typed up on an IBM Selectric, signed with a quill, ink faded with age, paper yellowed by sunlight, potentially with coffee mug rings on it, stashed somewhere in a drawer.

I wondered about those returning amateurs and asked myself about the nature of leaving a hobby. It occurred to me that people leave for many different reasons, and it would be foolhardy to consider that all of those reasons are controllable by our community. While bullying and arguments exist, each responsible for their share of people leaving, it seems to me that some amateurs leave because there’s too much other stuff going on in their lives, things that actively or passively prevent amateurs from participating.

This is difficult for me to relate to because for me, amateur radio is an intrinsic part of my life, in that it often quietly shapes how I view the world and learn from it. I see it when I notice a television antenna pointing in the wrong direction, when I install a new Wi-Fi router somewhere, when a signal is lost to a manned mission around the Moon, when I open the garage door and when I read that researchers at the National Institute for Standards and Technology, better known as NIST, have developed a new method for creating chips that process photons similarly to how traditional chips process electrons which can generate a rainbow of colours, though they didn’t use the letter “u” to describe them.

While those examples might be somewhat obvious, amateur radio is also there when I see someone share a tiny electronic paper screen on social media and I consider how I might use that when I go portable. It’s there when I’m walking in a park and when I’m looking at a beach, it’s there when I see metal artworks or painters poles at the local hardware store and when I watch a movie with radios anywhere on screen. It’s there when the topic of physics arises and when some electromagnetic phenomenon occurs. Like radio waves and air, it’s pretty much part of my daily existence.

I will add that this same depth of connection exists between me and computers. Watching “Flight of the Conchords” I cannot help but notice that Murray’s computer keeps changing and that I miss the Commodore Vic 20 sitting behind him surrounded by ever changing New Zealand tourism posters.

In other words, I cannot imagine ever not having radio or computers in my life. I’m mentioning all this because my experience isn’t universal. While I’m sure that I’m not alone in this deep affinity, the community as a whole invariably ranges between people who could take or leave the hobby at a moment’s notice and those who couldn’t live without it and beyond our community there are people who are, depending on your perspective, blissfully or woefully, unaware of our existence.

All this to say, your experience of this hobby is not the same as that for everyone else, neither is your experience of life. This is revealed more clearly in what we think the hobby means, whether or not FT8 is a blessing or a curse, contesting is ridiculous or amazing, why 40m is better than 20m or vice-versa and if the hobby died when the ITU stopped requiring Morse code, or saw a rebirth.

It should be obvious by now, but I think it’s important to be explicit. Amateur radio is your hobby. It’s what it means for you. Not for your mate, not for me, not for the people in your club, the local email list or social media. Just you.

So, use this as an opportunity to think about this, in my not so humble opinion, absolutely amazing hobby and what place it has in your life.

I’m Onno VK6FLAB