There are quite a few books I have on my reading list. Some of the are :
I do have a lot more books in the list, I’m gonna start on the list today, because I have been so busy lately with life and everything.
Everytime someone asks me these kind of questions, I don’t know what to say, I freeze, and I didn’t answer right away. Not because I didn’t know, but because my mind tried to dress the answer up into something impressive. Something productive. That hesitation told me more than the question itself.
When I answered honestly, it was simple. The last time I truly lost track of time was a night out dancing with friends on my best friend’s birthday. Music loud, body moving, phone forgotten. I wasn’t trying to document it or make it mean anything. I was just there. And I remember how light I felt afterward.
That made me realize something uncomfortable. Most of what I call “fun” lately is just recovery. Scrolling when I’m drained. Watching something because I’m too tired to think. It passes the time, but it doesn’t feed me.
When I pay attention, real play shows up the same way every time for me. Dancing, because it pulls me back into my body. Writing, because it lets me disappear into my own thoughts. Both make time dissolve. Both leave me more energized than when I started. Neither needs an audience to count.
Somewhere along the way, I started treating play like a reward. Something I save for birthdays, weekends, or when everything else is handled. Even the things I love, reading, watching a show I know I’ll enjoy, I keep pushing to later, as if joy needs to be earned.
So I’m asking myself this now, and maybe you should too: when was the last time you did something purely for play or fun? Not to cope. Not to be productive. Just because it made you feel alive. If the answer feels far away, that’s not a failure. It’s an invitation.
Let me know your thoughts below 👇🏻💕
Ladyink with love 