A Novice in Fun
Fun has always felt a bit foreign to me.
Don’t get me wrong—I love the idea of fun. But coming from a traumatic upbringing, fun wasn’t always an option. While I certainly had good and joyful experiences—summers splashing in the creek and afternoons tucked away with a book—it was often overshadowed by feeling emotionally responsible for my parent.
Now, as an adult committed to healing, I find myself a novice in something most people easily intuit early in life.
While it’s freeing to discover and prioritize things I enjoy, it’s also intimidating. Akin to a quarter-life crisis, several years ago I had a revelation that my life revolved around survival and productivity.
When everyone around me seems to have the code for what gives them rest and joy, what makes them come alive, I’m clumsily typing in combinations and hoping one unlocks the door to fun.
As I watched other people freely pursue hobbies and passions, I began dipping my toes in the possibility that maybe I could release clenched fists of control to enjoy myself a little.
I’d still classify myself as a beginner in the fun department, but I have a lifetime to master the art and practice the disciplines of identifying and carving out space for life-giving activities.
Guiding questions that have helped me identify fun:
What do I actually like (not: “What feels like a ‘productive’ use of free time?” or “What would appear fun to other people?”)?
What sounds fun to me? (Annie F. Downs asks this regularly in her books and podcasts, and it causes me to think introspectively every time.)
Revelations about fun:
Fun really is subjective. Sometimes, cleaning out the medicine cabinet while listening to an audiobook is actually fun for me. I doubt this would bring equal pleasure to most people, but as long as I’m enjoying it (and doing it because I genuinely want to, not because I “should”), it’s fair game.
My definition of fun changes based on how I’m feeling. While my Friday night fun includes lounge wear, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and an early bedtime, my vacation fun is painted with adventure, history, and unique cultural experiences.
I can’t measure fun with metrics. It’s tempting to put constraints on fun—such as whether it looks appealing to other people or whether it accomplishes something. However, I’ve found putting polish or productivity on something intended to be joyful and restful makes it far less so.
It can be simple. As an introvert, I seek out leisure that involves quiet or quality time rather than loud or audacious activities. It may not be as Instagram-able, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.
Fun isn’t a luxury. Sure, I find traveling to Europe fun—and that is a luxury. But I also derive joy from reading in solitude—and that can be easily built into my regular rhythm of life.
To further explore fun:
Chase the Fun, Annie F. Downs
