Is anyone having any fun anymore?
Everyone's got a morning routine, a shelf full of self help books, meal plans, colour coded calendar, a drawer full of vitamins - honestly the list is endless. Lately, I've been reflecting on the absence of fun and spontaneity in my life and while my routine is very important to me, I can't help but reminisce about the days where life was more silly and free.
WHEN DID WE GET SO SERIOUS?
Growing up, I remember the thrill of riding my bike and finding new places to explore, meeting friends at the park, which as I got older turned into spontaneous nights out, laughing until crying and my only worry was whether I had enough money for a new outfit.
As an adult, I am so grateful for the life I have now — work that is meaningful and I enjoy, family who are supportive, my health and security. I recognise my privilege in living a life I never thought possible growing up but recently, I've been noticing the absence of lightness and fun.
THE WEIGHT WE'RE CARRYING
Previous generations worried about their own lives, their own communities, maybe national news if they caught it at 6 o'clock. Now we are supposed to be emotionally available to every global tragedy in real time, outraged on demand, comparing our lives to everybody on the internet, grappling feelings of helplessness towards the injustice of politics and that is just naming a few. No wonder we're exhausted. No wonder we've forgotten how to laugh.
THE ILLUSION OF "HAVING IT ALL"
Life is so hard for many and I see this in the counselling room consistently. None of us signed up for this particular version of adulthood. We are being imprinted and conditioned from a very early age to chase things which we are told will bring us happiness but many don't achieve what society tells us is important, leaving many feeling depressed, left behind and failing at life. For those who do tick all the boxes, there's often a hollow moment of 'wait, is this it?' waiting on the other side. We get caught up in achieving and lose sight of humour and fun!
LAUGHTER IN THE THERAPY ROOM
Of course the therapy room is a space for people to process their pain, trauma and grief but on the odd occasion, humour enters — usually as a defence mechanism, yes, but sometimes just as... humour.
Those moments change the texture of the session entirely. A shared laugh, unexpected and genuine, reminds me that we're not just processing pain, we're also human beings who need lightness to survive.
FINDING THE WAY BACK
Yesterday my son laughed so hard at something ridiculous that he couldn't breathe. I realised I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt that kind of unselfconscious joy. So I'm looking for it. Comedy shows, singing badly in the car, bike rides to nowhere. Small rebellions against the tyranny of productivity.
So here I am, trying to schedule spontaneity and optimise joy. Which is absurd and classic me but maybe that's the point, maybe the first step back to fun is admitting how far we've drifted from it.