My friend Kate texted after reading last week's blog: "I can't work out whether you enjoyed your trip or not...these long trips can be hard work".
I pondered before replying:
"I had an extraordinary journey. It wasn't all highs but it was a profoundly different life experience with incredible sights and learnings. I felt relaxed most of the time, even if I didn't always feel I was with 'my people'. By the end, I was genuinely over being part of a large (16 people) group".
My musings brought to mind some of my feelings during the trip.
Flashback
I was in Hoi An, having wandered off from the group to explore alone. Returning to the hotel as darkness fell, I lounged in my bedroom reading Shantaram. Suddenly, I realised it was Saturday night and I was in. Alone. With no plans to go out.
My mother's words from 1981 came flooding back. I can picture the scene so clearly.
We were in our small lounge in Barnstaple, North Devon. My friends had just arrived to guzzle cheap Liebfraumilch to 'get us going' before our regular Saturday night pub crawl around town. The Human League's Dare album leaned against the silver Sanyo Music Centre, "Don't You Want Me" spinning – a song that would become one of the soundtracks to my life.
I was 17, mum was 37. I asked her:
"You going out tonight mum?"
"No," she said.
"How can you stay in on a Saturday night?" I retorted.
She calmly replied:
"You'll get to a point in life Ruth when you want to stay in on a Saturday night rather than go out".
Stupefied, I confidently declared:
"That will never happen to me."
Of course, she was right.
Back in Hoi An
Distracted from my book, I reflected on my evolution. Years ago, staying in on a Saturday night would have sparked mild panic. Now, I relish moments of solitude – well, as long as it doesn't last too long and has an end in sight.
FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) rarely visits me now. When it does, I recognize it as fleeting. Instead, I embrace JOMO (the Joy of Missing Out) and the pleasure of not being in company, instead perhaps reading, pottering, watching a film or enjoying an early night. Alone. Bliss.
Change
What triggered this change?
Maybe it’s a sign of age and inner confidence, greater contentment, and peace? Maybe my energy levels are lower or I'm more selective around people and place? Perhaps I'm no longer searching, understanding that 'it' is rarely found in crowded spaces. Perhaps I've developed better boundaries, learning I don't have to say 'yes' to every invitation.
And yes, there's the uncomfortable possibility I’ve become a boring old fart!
In truth, it's probably all of the above.
But what a relief to relax, rejuvenate and enjoy being home (or in a far flung hotel room) – even on a Saturday night!
You
How do you feel about Saturday nights? Does it still feel like a ‘premium’ night to be maximised? Or has its significance changed for you? And what’s driven that shift for you (kids aside!)?
Do drop me a line. I'd love to hear from you.
Until next week,
Ruth x
Ps: Podcast tip - if you are a fan of Paul Weller, and who couldn’t be, this interview of Noel Gallagher talking about his friendship with Paul made me chuckle - irreverent and fun. Thanks for the tip
ofPps: A small ask - Do join in the conversation by leaving me your thoughts. If you’ve not yet subscribed to 1KW please do, or why not share my musings with a friend, relative or colleague? Or leave me a ❤️ - one or all of the above brings a smile to my face and keeps me writing. Thank you.
Doing nothing and staying in on a Saturday night is underrated! Agreed 👏🏻👏🏻
I fully embrace JOMO on a Saturday night - especially when it's Strictly season!