Cultivating fun and the inner child
I’ve recently had a miniature revelation about how the things I enjoy doing most in life are essentially the same things I was into as kid. As Jung asked “What did you do as a child that made the hours pass like minutes? Herein lies the key to your earthly pursuits.” Quite early in the week for a Jungian analysis, but there it is. This may also seem obvious to many-but it’s actually providing me with a newfound sense of continuity. Truth be told, I’d rather come to perceive of myself as being fleeting with my hobbies of choice. A bit like always playing the field but without the romance. I’d start something new with such passionate enthusiasm that I’d even have myself convinced, only to fall off the proverbial wagon when first signs of impartiality set in. Very much a self diagnosed Jack of all trades syndrome, but with leisure activities.
It started with learning music as a teenager- recorder, to clarinet, to flute until finally giving up on the wind instruments entirely and trying piano, which also lasted about two weeks, I think I even had a pitch at the guitar. Then later there was bridge, bouldering, teaching Pilates, even a very short lived stint at knitting (wool and needles still idle in the drawer). Points for enthusiasm, and I tend to put it down to an abject inability to fake it. I’m either completely gung-ho on a hobby or dashing for the hills if I sense any hint of tedium creeping in. That said, if I do like it- I can then lose complete track of time and apply myself in rain man type fashion to perfecting it.
So I’m now making a habit of indulging in these most loved pastimes from my childhood as frequently as possible. And by that I’m not implying I’ve got the Lego out or I’m colouring in every day (which can be pretty satisfying admittedly). And I presume many of us realise this adult to child self connection at some point. Because while taste naturally shifts to a degree (thankfully not still wearing the same tie dye Miss Sixty jeans I did in 2002), our core interests do seem to remain relatively intact, or at least open to being reignited, into adulthood.
I can actually highly recommend this as a strategy for revving up the happy levels on any given day- minus the dopamine spike. Those fleeting moments of contentment or ‘glimmers’ as social media now calls them,1 are often linked to the stuff we’ve always liked. That doesn’t mean I still eat jammy dodgers, or write in my secret diary (with key) under the covers at night, but yes I do have a massive sweet tooth and a bulging analog notebook full of to dos and random thought snippets. Which is somewhat comparable.
If we want to access what makes us genuinely feel good- I recommend jotting down what you most love doing when you have a spare hour or two (keeping it PG if possible), especially when no one’s looking (dancing in the kitchen to favourite tunes included) or the genre of topics you google most. Which of course could also prove worrying- my last googled include; ‘ayahuasca ethical issues,’ ‘ who is Simon Fieschi' and ‘how to make almond milk’. Not sure what that reveals, but the idea is to get down to what you’re consistently most curious about. I’ll probably never get around to making my own almond milk for example, but I’ve always aimed to eat healthily. Then even more fun, is conjuring up a list of what your childhood hobbies were, and seeing how they correlate with the current ones. I’ll bet there’s some extensive crossover.
So by way of example, in no particular order, the hobbies of my child self versus today’s supposedly grown up equivalent: dressing up clothes (now vintage fashion hoarder), recording myself talking on a miniature microphone (avid voice-note fan and low key aspirations to one day host podcast), reading- usually the max number of library books at a time and a strange interest in books specifically about WWII (spurred by an obsession with the Chronicles of Narnia), the idea of going away with a small suitcase like Paddington Bear also appealed and I loved books where the heroine went on an adventure alone (absolutely no different to my current lifestyle)- I was also probably the only child in my class who quite fancied the idea of being evacuated. Add to the list that I selfishly loved reading out loud, my Magic Steps shoes (still a cupboard jammed full of needless heels), dogs and reading about different dog breeds, Bunty and Mizz comics (I had over ten pen pals going at one point through Bunty’s amazing ‘pick a penpal’ resource), making my own newsletters or scrapbooks (old school Substack), roaming free in the fields or garden, making up imaginative stories, stationary of all kinds and maybe most importantly, having really neat handwriting.
It’s amazing how these things can line up nicely with everything we’re naturally drawn to now, and it’s pure joie de vivre. “When you climb a beautiful mountain,” says Thich Nhat Hanh, “invite your child within to climb with you.” And honestly, I know what he means. That childlike part of us is something to cultivate and have fun with, mountain top or not.
I’d add to this point, that in the age of phone and ipad-itus, the concept of actually getting bored enough to invent new games, is of course really good for children’s developing brains. Living in Paris, I witness daily, like in any large city, how entertaining a child just does require unfortunate amounts of indoor time. In which case, the constant stimulus demanded by toddlers or children under 5 can be particularly taxing for exhausted parents.
I’ve observed my own sister, who also lives in a capital city, with reverence. She’s a literal icon of parenting patience (no bias intended) and has an extremely limited screen time policy with her two little ones, both under 5. The energy and dedication required to play play play is candidly, impressive- especially on days where mum and dad are completely zapped and had a cumulative 2 hours of shut eye. But the crucial offshoot of this dedication to not rely on tech as a constant form of temporary childcare, is that both children are clearly extremely mentally switched on and present. The eyes boldly lit up, curious as could be, full of joy, exploration and probably most crucially, a truckload (or digger full as it may be for my nephew) of imagination. The numb expressions of children exposed constantly to screens are just a bit sad by comparison. Of course, the eldest watches Octonauts and Fireman Sam, but he’s also impressively verbose on both topics and I can sense the leaps and bounds by which his cognitive skills are progressing. I suspect a lot of that does also come down to the lack of intense stimuli from tv or indeed any phone time whatsoever. It’s a delight, and I can see a little personality emerging freely. He writes with his left hand, he recently discovered, and already shows keen signs of being the next Marie Kondo with his quirky predisposition for tidying up and instinct for directing what cushion goes where.
Children are natural sponges, of course, but there’s a tiny person in there with quite pre-defined likes and dislikes. A bit like the ‘hot or not’ column that used to appear in noughties trash celebrity magazines, we all have our leaning to preferred activities. Are they the things we’re best at? Sometimes, but it goes beyond talent and ultimately winds up as taste. If you have children, it can be endearing to spot these, often slightly wacky, burgeoning preferences- and then to nurture them. Obviously scribbling on library books or power punching younger sibling aside, the good stuff, if fostered and simply allowed to be, can turn into some of life’s greatest individual pleasures. So I challenge you to rediscover those favourite things- maybe not the raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens part- but if you genuinely loved the Sound of Music, then actually why not. The point being that we do need to cherish our unique abilities and preferences- because when it comes down to it, that’s the essence of who we really are.
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