In the Zhuangzi (say "jwahng-dzuh"), a carpenter walks past an enormous oak that serves as the local altar and doesn't even slow down. His apprentice can't believe it, but the carpenter calls the tree worthless: a boat made from it would sink, a coffin would rot, furniture would fall apart. That night the oak turns up in his dream and points out what usefulness does to fruit trees. Their branches get broken, their fruit gets stripped, and they die young. Being no use to a carpenter is how the oak got old. The story's target is the habit of turning every living thing into material, and the oak survived by being good for nothing anyone could sell. A hobby can stay bad at making money. An empty hour can stay empty. Leave one part of this morning unoptimized, and see how long it lasts.