It’s been a while since I did any kind of personal update on the blog. There’s been a lot of change for me over the last few years, a lot of those changes are things I’m not really ready to talk about, and that’s fine.

A few years ago, Marie Kondo, the decluttering queen gave us cause to think about what sparks joy in our lives, and what does not. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that lately. Partly because I’ve been having a bit of a declutter, and partly because a couple of months ago I started a new job at a very beautiful place.

I work for a charity which supports people with disabilities, and one of the things we are encouraged to do is a lot of personal reflection. When I started, I found it difficult, looking deep within me and examining my feelings and how I approach things is something I have previously saved for therapy. I’m not always comfortable having a deep dive into my feelings, because you never know what stone you might turn over.

I have weekly meetings with my boss, a wise, wise woman who I love. She’s inspiring, practical, understanding, and has a knack of asking especially searching questions. She often asks me what brings me joy, or what do I find especially life giving. Those are really hard questions for me, because for the main part, I’m not sure I know the answer. I’m just a busy mum, running a busy home, going through some big life things and trying to hold our lives together through a pandemic and the aftermath of that.

My answer to what sparks joy or gives me life is almost always spending time with my son. Spending time with him does bring me joy, but also makes me worry that having that as my go to answer means I am either saying what society expects me to say, or it means that I’ve given up on myself and I can only find happiness being the supporting actor in a main characters life.

Like many middle aged parents, I’ve lost a bit of who I am and what I like doing. I’ve no idea what actually sparks joy for me anymore. When I think back to my younger days, it was dancing in nightclubs for hours and hours, and it was hanging out with friends listening to music. Later, it was spa days and walks on windswept beaches. It was feeling alive.

It’s my birthday next week and friends are being incredibly kind and wanting to take me out or meet me for drinks or whatever. And I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to spend my birthday. It’s not a special one, and I don’t really love being the centre of attention, so I’ve asked myself the question over and over, what sparks birthday joy for me? For some reason, that is the hardest question.

Realistically, what will happen is I’ll have a nice day with my son, I’ll see some family, bake a cake for myself and that’s it, and that’s a nice enough day. But it shines a light on something I need to consider. Am I content to live a life of nice enough days? Should I be pushing for those times which spark joy, and the things that give me life?

What do I want and how do I find the things which do spark joy for me? Is there anything I find particularly life giving? What gives me energy and drive to be the best version of me? I don’t know the answers to these questions. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to answer them again, and it does make me sad that I’m so out of touch with what makes me tick, that I can’t even answer the question of what makes me happy.

There’s no happy conclusion to this. There’s no realisation that water skiing is really the secret to my eternal happiness, more the realisation that I’ve become lost to myself over the years. Whilst I’m sure I will bump into myself again at some point in the future, it’s unlikely to be in the next few weeks, or even months.

I’m not alone in feeling this way, am I?