Finding Joy Alone
It's not always easy, but it's definitely possible — and can be fun, too.
I make a lot of lists. Often, with my favorite gold Pentel pen. To-do lists. Lists of my values. Lists of people I admire. Lists of things I want for my life. Lists, and lists, and lists. I guess it’s because I’m a writer by profession. Plus, I’ve also always been a visual learner. Seeing words written down helps me to better understand and process what’s going on inside. The stuff that I can’t see. This past Sunday, I penned a list that I’ve made a few times before.
Things that make me happy.*
This time, though, it was a little different. Because this time, there was a small asterisk.
Things that make me happy.*
* That I can do by myself.
I told you all about my friends. The ones that are leaving New York, either permanently or just for now. Over the weekend, I was particularly in my feelings about what life may look like without my lifelines around. Feeling confident in my decision that New York is still where I want to be, I’ve come to terms with a few things. Firstly, eventually I’m going to have to put myself out there to make some new buds. That’s definitely going to be uncomfortable at times (more on that in a future newsletter). Secondly, sitting around and dreading their departures isn’t going to do me any good. Hence the list-making, or my attempt at reclaiming some of my power and taking back control.
At least some.
Running.
Writing.
Listening to podcasts.
Cleaning (odd, I know).
Cooking.
I paused after I wrote down cooking. I thought about the joy I get in my kitchen, even if it’s without a dishwasher and doesn’t have room for a proper dining table. I thought about the idea that cooking is one of the most relaxing activities that I do, period. As much as I adore the endorphin rush that comes with striding down a nearly empty street with sweat dripping down my neck and a good playlist blasting through my AirPods, cooking takes my calm to another level.
… That’s because with cooking, you’ve got to really, really pay attention. Plus, wine’s most likely involved. And although you may subconsciously still have other things on your mind, your thoughts have to be dedicated to the experience (specifically when a recipe is involved). It also makes me think of growing up, sitting at the granite kitchen island in my two-story Connecticut home with Billy Joel blasting on the speakers overhead, surrounded with love.
Cycling.
Sitting in sunshine.
Eating solo at restaurants.
Watching the sunrise.
Watching the sunset.
Reading.
Traveling.
I stopped, again. Traveling was the last thing I wrote down on Sunday. Ironic, because a couple years ago, I didn’t feel that way at all. Fresh out of a relationship in early 2018, I decided to take my first-ever solo trip that had nothing to do with business to Italy. I stayed for 10 days. When I booked it, I was frightened; I was worried about feeling obscenely lonely. My desire for freedom, to mix things up, and to stop waiting for a special someone to do these things with — that outweighed my worry. And so, I went for it.
It’s one of the best things I’ve ever done — next to that first marathon in 2013.
I never want to consciously be the only thing that’s standing in the way of my own happiness. But to be real, who wants that, really? I sat there Sunday, thinking about how things have changed. How things can change. How things will change. Thinking about the opportunity I have in my life to create my own happiness. Sometimes, when life gets tough, we forget that. We dwell on the things that we’re without.
In that moment, I gazed at the lined pages of my notebook and started to think more clearly. I decided to necessarily shift my perspective. To find the joy … even if it is on a path that I’m walking solo.
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PROMPT: What activities can you do alone that bring you joy?