How To Have More Fun As An Adult

Dear friend,

Here’s a secret: I probably shouldn’t be the one to write you this letter. I’ve titled it “how to have more fun as an adult” and yet I sit here in a stage of life in which I feel almost incapable of doing just that. At the risk of sounding a bit melodramatic, I whimpered these words to Stuart just a few weeks back through tears.

“I can’t even remember what I used to do for fun.”

I know what makes me feel responsible and what makes me feel accomplished, and I fear those have become far too intertwined with a good time. There’s a sort of homemaking-high that comes from a stack of paid bills ready to head to the mailbox or a freshly organized refrigerator. These are points of pleasure. Points of joy, even. And in the stage of life where I find myself — closing in on 40 with a house full of teenagers and preteens — I often mistake these accomplished goals or points of achievement as fun.

Honey! Look! I washed the pink mold off the shower curtain. Doesn’t it look nice?
And did you see I restocked the oranges?
I topped off the gas in the car too—and RSVP’d to the church potluck.

I’ve begun to accept that these small pieces of a life well kept are, indeed, “fun.” I often choose something responsible and accomplishment-driven instead of something that’s just flat-out fun. Fun for fun’s sake.

And I’m not the better for it.

So, in that way, perhaps I am just the person to sit down and share with you some thoughts on fun today. I’ve spent the last week navigating business contracts, contemplating future work, and fighting with our local county about a citation for “failing to produce proof of our dog’s rabies certification on time” (which, in fact, we did). The fun-o-meter has been drained.

Suffice it to say, I am in prime posture to bust loose. Which raises the obvious question: how exactly does a responsible grown woman remember how to have fun again?

I’m devoting myself to digging deep; remembering how I used to have fun before life got so serious and acknowledging the woman I am now.

What does she actually find fun now?

And how can she have more of it?

(I should preface this by saying I didn’t include the obvious. If you’ve been here for any length of time, you’ll know: I love my family, spending time with my people, traveling to Italy, eating good food, putzing around at home, and then traveling back to Italy.)

Steven Rinella of MeatEater has talked about “fun” before, noting that the experiences we often call fun are usually accompanied by struggle. In fact, he suggests that the more struggle involved, the more satisfying the fun becomes in the end; comparing “cheap fun” (like that of a roller coaster) to a much “richer fun” (like that of a successful hunt after a lot of discomfort). His hypothesis is that it is precisely the amount of struggle that determines the amount of real fun.

I take his point and in many regards, I agree. My kids are fun in this way. Gardening is fun in this way. The struggle exists with a purpose. In fact, the gifts from these labors come because of the struggle, not in spite of it.

But that’s not quite the kind of fun I’m talking about today.

I want to talk about fun-fun; moments that allow me to break through the fog and bask in the sunshine. Moments that remind me existence matters beyond accomplishment.

To have fun as an adult, I need to identify a handful of activities that give me moments of rest and joy — disconnected from daily demands and performance. These are activities that should bring a smile to my face, leaving me rejuvenated for the work ahead.

So I dug deep and thought hard about what actually qualifies as fun for me now. In case you’re like me, struggling to break free from duty and performance, here’s what I’ve come up with.

Dancing

Recently, I was working out at home — an activity I’m grateful to have the physical capacity to do, but one that ranks very low on my personal fun list. I do enjoy the occasional endorphin high on a good workout day, but more often the only satisfaction I feel comes from ticking it off the list and showing up even when I didn’t want to.

There it is again — that dreaded word: accomplishment.

Dang.

Okay. Scratch working out off my “fun” list.

Anyway… I was working out and a silly song came on my headphones. I couldn’t help but dance and move a bit as the tune played loudly over the clanking of weights.

Perhaps I was a bit high strung on this particular day, but the movement to the music felt so wonderful that I found myself stopping the workout entirely. I let my body go loose and began to sway and groove — arms flailing, face lifted toward the sky.

I’m sure I looked quite ridiculous.

But I allowed myself to dance, alone and ridiculous, until the song finished. In that moment, I was accomplishing nothing and yet, I felt everything.

watching flamenco dancing in Spain

My body was processing frustration, joy, fatigue — life. I felt relief.

As I danced, I thought back to a very fun moment. It was a friend’s wedding and Stuart and I were 15 years older than the wedding crowd; it was one of the first times I really felt my age, because I didn’t recognize the music bringing everyone to the dance floor. I remember I wore my fur to the outdoor wedding and by the time dancing began, I had it draped over my shoulders in the chilly air. Stuart and I had a babysitter and it was one of few times we were able to break away together when the kids were younger. We danced that night — we danced! Especially when Whitney Houston came on… now we’re talking! I remember feeling so happy in that moment, a few moments of complete release and enjoyment.

Stuart practically dragged me off the dance floor when it came to relieve the babysitter and I was not ready to go. That was the kind of fun I’m talking about it.

Live Music

Last week my brother-in-law came through town with his Paul Simon tribute band and played a theater nearby. It hadn’t been an ideal day leading up to the show. We ate cold food for supper in the car, and I had to throw my shirt away in the bathroom garbage because it smelled so bad from the stress of the day’s events. Luckily, I had a spare in the car. Ha.

But for two hours, I sat and let the worries of the day melt into guitar solos and melodic harmonies. More than once, I was moved to tears.

Likewise, last summer, I found myself singing along with a live-band at a local cider house. The band played Four Non Blondes “What’s Up?” and I shouted along. It was silly. I danced with Will while we sang. It was fun.

the Elliott brothers in Washington and Kingfisher in Georgia

Music has a particular way of doing this. In many ways, it tells us how to feel. To be carried along by live music is like being a raft heading downstream, ebbing and flowing wherever the water wills. For a moment, I am not the manager or the orchestrator. I am merely a participant in the pleasure.

I use music a lot at home to manipulate the flavor of any given day, but it lacks the sensory experience of live music, which engages all the senses.

For a moment, walls surround you, and all that exists is that moment — a moment where sinks full of dirty dishes and tax-reporting cannot find me.

Live music is a particular kind of delight.

Go To Water

Playing and sitting by water is fun, though I often find it difficult to disengage from the to-do list long enough to make it happen. Why do I do this? Every time I go to water, I am so glad that I did.

Time spent by our pop-up pool, by the river, on the lake, or (on special occasions) at the beach is very fun indeed. Sometimes I mess with rocks or build sand castles. Other times I look for shells, sunbathe, or snorkel around. It is always a restful and filling experience.

I especially love doing this with others. I love the munchie snacks and the big iced drinks. I love the smell of the water and the sound of it.

Come to think of it, yes — time spent by the water is very fun indeed.

Pull!

This idea of fun may not be on everyone’s list, but it is most certainly on mine: skeet shooting.

If you’re unfamiliar with this event, a clay disc is thrown into the sky and a marksman shoots it down with a shotgun. BOOM! This is incredibly fun for me. It requires my full focus — my mind cannot wander. Rather, I’m able to just be in the moment. It’s cathartic. It makes me laugh and celebrate and high-five and tell jokes. More of this, please.

I’m officially a middle-aged woman now, and I’m grateful to know there is still so much fun to be had. The burdens of adulthood are steep and often leave me feeling a bit worse for wear. They’re also incessant. While the IRS is always quick to remind me of my mistakes, I have no such reminders to go and have a bit of fun.

Instead, I’ve got to decide that it’s worth having and just do it. I take as many trips to Italy as humanly possible. I eat delightful food. I gather with friends.

I host small dance parties in my kitchen while I make dinner.

And schedule skeet-shooting and time by the water.

Whatever shape it takes, I know this is the season for me to remember that fun is just as valuable to my life as accomplishment.

To laugh. To break free from the noise. To step away from performance, even for a moment.

These are gifts to the soul.

If you discover something that feels like fun again, I hope you’ll tell me about it.

Love,

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