In our busy culture where everything we do has to have a purpose, I asked myself the other day…
When was the last time I did something just because it felt good to me?
Not because it would look good online.
Not because it would make me more “productive.”
Not because it would check a box or move the needle.
Just because I loved it.
It’s wild how foreign that question can feel.
We spend so much of our adult lives doing things that have an outcome attached – an audience, a purpose, a benefit, a reason that “justifies” the time. Somewhere along the way, the simple act of doing something for the sheer joy of it gets buried under expectations.
The horses are great at reminding me that it’s ok to just be with no agenda.
A Story From the Ranch
A few weeks ago, I had one of those mornings where life felt a little tight around the edges. Not overwhelming, just compressed.
I walked outside with my tea and saw Gracie standing with her head turned toward me, ears soft, the morning light catching the edges of her mane. She wasn’t asking for anything. She wasn’t waiting for me to work or facilitate or do something meaningful.
She was just there. And I felt the most unfiltered yes inside my chest.
So I walked over, placed my hand on her neck, and stayed. No agenda. No moment to film. No story to extract for a talk or a workshop. Just the two of us breathing in the cool air.
And I realized something incredibly simple:
This is something I love that doesn’t need to become anything.
It didn’t need to turn into content.
It didn’t need to be productive.
It didn’t need to be shared.
It got to be mine.
And the freedom of that felt like a soft exhale I didn’t know I’d been holding.
Remember When We Were Kids?
Remember when you used to draw just because? Or dance in your bedroom without thinking about how you looked? Or make up stories no one else ever read?
We forget that version of ourselves. We outgrow the things that don’t “make sense.” We abandon the things that are “just for fun.” We trade wonder for usefulness.
But the truth is:
The things you do for yourself, purely for pleasure, expression, curiosity, or joy, those are the things that keep you alive inside.
They’re the things that reconnect you to your own inner spark; the spark you need for every other part of your life.
What I’m Loving Just for Me Right Now
Here’s my list, unfiltered:
- Wandering the pasture at sunset for no reason except the colors make me feel something.
- Letting a playlist guide my mood instead of my to-do list.
- Rearranging small corners of my home because it delights me.
- Writing paragraphs that never become newsletters, posts, or speeches—they stay in the notes app where they belong.
- Making a beautiful meal just for myself (tablescape included).
- Buying flowers that don’t match anything.
- Letting ideas come without the pressure to turn them into offers.
These tiny acts feel like coming home to myself.
Maybe It’s Time to Give Yourself Something Back
So I want to gently ask you:
What’s one thing you used to love that you don’t let yourself do anymore because it feels “unnecessary”?
What did you stop doing because no one clapped for it? What fell away because it didn’t fit into your adult life? What do you secretly miss?
And could you give yourself ten minutes with it this week?
Not to be good at it.
Not to turn it into anything.
Not to prove anything.
Just because it’s yours.
Your Aliveness Is Not a Performance
In a world that tells you to monetize everything, optimize everything, share everything… choosing to do something simply because it lights up your soul is a quiet rebellion.
A beautiful one.
One that keeps you wild awake.
Here’s to doing things this week just because you love them. Here’s to remembering that aliveness doesn’t need an audience. Here’s to reclaiming something small just for you.
Photo by Merve Bayar on Unsplash