Solo Joy
Hello, friends. And hello if you’re new this week!
A beautiful reader sent me an email last week that gently suggested, “Recommendations on how to have joy solo would be appreciated.” Sarah, you’re absolutely right — and this one is for you.
Solo joy. It’s so possible.
Here’s how I would approach it.
Learn what is fun for you. Hint: it’s not necessarily the same as what other people find fun. We need to think about finding our flow: what lights us up? What makes us lose track of time? For me, that’s writing and revising books. It’s baking cakes. Doing a puzzle. (It’s not going to new restaurants or travelling…but that might be fun for you.)
Plan a joyful treat for yourself just so that you can look forward to it. Spend some time in pleasant anticipation, and set the scene beautifully for what you want to do. If you love to cook and enjoy a special meal, plan it for a few days from now. Anticipate it, and remind yourself you’ve planned a treat just for you. Choose music you love, set the table the way you like it, light the candles, cook (comfort food or something new or takeaway). Savour it. The planning and anticipation make it special.
Be where your feet are. Feel the experience and appreciate it. Talk out loud if you’re at home. Speak words of encouragement and joy over your own life. Say what you love about the experience you’ve created for yourself with so much care. (“I love this! I love treating myself to a brand new novel and a hot cup of tea.”)
Revel in the peace of being with yourself. So few people have peace and it’s completely under-rated. Our nervous systems need it: the calm nest we can create, the beautiful music, the deep breaths, the feeling that everything is okay.
Top and tail your day with joy. For me, that’s hot coffee first thing in the morning and reading in bed at night (especially if I heat the bed up first with an electric throw in this chilly Aussie winter!). I love to create tiny sparks of joy for myself: the ritual of finding the next good book in the library or the bookshop, discovering my favourite coffee pod for the little Nespresso machine, using my favourite coffee mug, sitting in my favourite chair.
All of us are solo in our own brains. Take a moment to ask yourself this: how am I talking to myself? Am I encouraging and kind? Do I love my own company? Here’s an important question: are you spending too much time being the mean version of yourself to yourself—Mean Catherine, Mean Juliana, Mean Helen? Or are you kind and grace-filled towards yourself, like you would be to a friend? (I need to work on this!)
It was good to be reminded about our solo friends that join us here every Sunday, so thank you for giving me the loving nudge to write about other ways of living.
It’s fair to say I write most things about my own lived experience, but that doesn’t mean I should forget about the experiences of others. If my life seems happy and full of family and moving parts, it is—but it is also hard and uphill, too. So uphill sometimes! If only you knew! On the internet, we tend to share a tiny sliver of what’s going on, and I like to be encouraging and upbeat. But I know sadness and pain, and so do you, my friends.
Solo: life can be hard. In a family: life can be hard.
My mother likes to tell me the story of everyone wearing a backpack filled with their problems. They’re able to walk into a huge room, lay the backpack down, pick up someone else’s backpack without knowing what’s inside and walk out. Whose backpack would you take? Probably your own.
This is what I know for sure: living solo is a full life. Carrying a family is a full life. All of us have people we’ve been given to love, even if it’s the neighbour next door who adores our carrot cake, commuters on the train, or the stranger who looks like they need a kind word in the fruit and veg market. We’re all connected. We find our joy where we plant it. We do the best we can with what we have in our own two hands.
No matter what you’re currently carrying, I hope today is beautiful for you. I hope you fill yourself to the brim with deliberate joy. I’m thinking of all of us around the world, flying solo and together.
Love, Catherine x
P.S. The Fun Stuff!
Sitting at my desk writing to you this morning, no makeup, freezing cold. Hiiiiii - it’s perfectly imperfect me.
The most beautiful way to do a simple task with love.
Aussie friends…I love this cable knit jumper so much. Sharing it again! The beige is even softer than the grey. Sold out in so many stores. A total winner.
Twice I saw a lyrebird when I was on a bushwalk one morning. Amazing.
You will laugh (especially if you read the caption…). I cried laughing.