Remember fun? Remember laughing yourself silly? Remember zooming around at top speed in a game whose rules changed every five minutes and where winning was not the point? Remember playing with your brother or sister, or friends from school, and not giving a moment’s thought to the next meal or the unpaid bills or the broken promise or the upcoming promotion?
Having fun is not the same thing as being entertained, although of course there is often some overlap. Fun is purposeless purpose, playful exploration, activity that keeps you joyfully grounded in this moment.
Having fun is something you do. It would be better as an intransitive verb: funning (which is in fact a real word, meaning something like ‘joking’ or ‘making fun of,’ but which is not at all what I’m getting at).
I have not had much fun lately. In fact, I haven’t funned hardly at all in quite awhile. As I sit here right now, I’m struggling to remember my last episode of fun. I don’t mean in any way to discount the enjoyment I’ve had from many of my regular pursuits. My photographic practice, for example, continues to bring me a sustaining satisfaction. I get great pleasure from spending time with friends, and good food is a delight.
But fun? All-out, unbridled, waaaaaaahoooooo fun? Not so much. Indeed, I’m hard-pressed to imagine what activity I could engage in that would restore that feeling of untrammeled, bodily fun. Maybe I need to go ride a roller-coaster or raft down a river; in any case, I’m pretty sure it needs to be something with a strong physical component and a social element.