As someone else wants to have more fun, I want to be more diligent

A woman in my book club sent a message into our WhatsApp group. I’d call her a friend but in truth I’m rather daunted by her.

She’s everything I’m not: university-educated (at Oxford no less), a medical doctor, professor and lauded expert in her field (brains, although I think they call it neuropathology), head of department at a big hospital, author of numerous peer-reviewed academic papers, a frequently-called expert witness in court, serious, self-made, and more.

And she always finishes the chosen book.

Certainly she’s someone I’d like to call my friend, but I wouldn’t dream of it – not without receiving a formal letter of invitation.

So her message threw me. She announced to the group that she wanted help: “I need a serious attitude adjustment and a bit/ lots of fun…” and then “Jennie help!” Jennie help? Jennie? Me?

Apparently, somewhere between my first canapé and third glass of wine at our monthly meetings, she got the impression I was fun.

ALSO READ: Adventure not only for newly weds

However, the Ministry of Fun was shuttered for the night. On Friday evenings, this envoy is usually to be found fast asleep on the couch in front of MasterChef. “Scintillating company, as ever,” teased Himself when I awoke and blearily announced that I would now be off to bed.

Meanwhile, the rest of the book club had stepped in and the fun suggestions were flying: a comedy evening, a holiday, a movie, a good cry, the next book club… When the Ministry opened the following morning I waded in, trailing mandatory sunbeams, for it was clear that this woman did not need simple, once-off fun.

She needed to open a fresh space in her head by engaging in something entirely new, something a million miles from her important daily doings. She needed a creative balm, and new company.

She should join a group or explore an activity she’d never normally consider, I suggested: dancing, painting, tie-dyeing, singing her lungs out in an amateur choir – something that meant losing herself in the moment, not self-improvement, not money, not a side hustle.

It’s about getting engrossed in an activity without intent, with zero expectations. It’s how I live my life; it’s how I’m fun. That, and the anti-depressants.

Now, perhaps she can tell me how to be more diligent, more serious, like she is.

ALSO READ: Taking a stand against single-use plastic has to start somewhere… right?