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Orders from command had to be followed. At least formally. But to do that, you had to understand what exactly was being asked of you. And for now, the order for all expedition members to take up some kind of hobby didn’t look very promising.
"An activity that does not harm the physical or psychological health of the person engaging in it or of other expedition members, and is not a continuation of duties," Rodney read aloud.
"Easy peasy," John replied. "RC-cars!"
"No, they could get under other people’s feet."
The two of them were sitting in Sheppard’s room, racking their brains trying to come up with a hobby.
"Movies," John suggested uncertainly.
"Action movies involve cruelty and violence."
"Right. And Wraiths bring us flowers, pony figurines, and tickets to Disneyland."
McKay shot him an irritated look that seemed to say, "I’m not the one making the rules!"
"Your turn. You suggest something."
"Comparing philosophical works of the last century with modern ones…"
"And if I feel like putting a bullet through my head, would that count as a psychologically healthy activity?"
"Well, I made a suggestion!"
"We could race on Puddle Jumpers."
"That’s already part of our job and duties," Rodney sighed.
"Fishing or baseball?"
"Both are potentially traumatic."
"Fishing?" Sheppard couldn’t believe his ears.
"When the average fish is twice as long as you…"
"“We don’t have a choice," John concluded.
"Looks like it."
And so the meditation class that Teyla taught in her free time, between missions and family, ended up with two additional participants.