the art of doing it alone

This long weekend, I made the plan to visit my brother who I haven’t seen in a while. I was determined to make plans, but, just for myself. No catching up with old friends, no dinners or coffees which at times feels like too much, of course leaving some gap to spend some time with my brother.

I wanted to spend time with myself being outside. I hadn’t done that in a while and I thought this weekend could be all about that.

I wandered through a farm that was filled with just kids. I woke up on a Sunday morning, I sat in cafe with no one across the table while enjoying the buzzing market festival that was being set up right outside.

I finally got the chance to go for a pottery class I’d bookmarked nearly a year ago, alone. I looked around and realized everyone had come with someone, or a a big group. I was alone, but to be honest, I couldn’t’ be bothered. I had so much time to focus on myself and didn’t have to worry about what another person was doing. It was honestly great. And something about that choice, that solitude, felt I guess, whole?

A Seat at the Cafe

I woke up early on a Sunday morning, and I knew there was this Vintage market nearby every Sundays and thought I’d get a chance to browse through. Of course, the one weekend I’m here, it was closed but I guess it was a good morning walk. I walked into this cafe, honestly, super aesthetic and it was busy. I’m on an attempt to try out Matcha Latte’s from different cafes other than Starbucks, because I’ve been told that’ s not really matcha.

The smell of fresh croissants hit me the second I stepped in and as I waited in line. There was just so many fresh items: from brownies, to small cake pieces. I wanted them all.

I’m on this personal mission to try matcha from places other than Starbucks, because apparently that’s not real matcha so I ordered one and found a seat in the corner. I hadn’t plan this little cafe visit, and I didn’t bring a book or a laptop. And maybe I should’ve, I kept thinking about how great it would be to maybe write another article here. But at the same time, it was better that way. There was no distraction, no task, no screen to disappear into. I could see people pass by through the window. People talking their dogs to walks. Stalls being set outside with loud music, vendors prepping themselves for the market festival. The smell of it all caught it up to me, got me hungry.

I watched those who walked into the cafe. People who walked in after a morning run, little dogs with their owners, an old couple who ordered their drinks and took a picture of it, friends sitting in a big table and catching up after a long week of work. I just let time stretch out, unhurried. I belonged to no one in that moment, and to be honest, it felt good.

A Pottery Class

The highlight of it all was the pottery class. I’ve been waiting to go to one for months, and each time I planned something, it never worked out. So this was something I was truly looking forward it. The thing is, they are so expensive and sometimes I hold back. My hands were super clumsy on the wheel, clay was soft, and everything was so messy. I wasn’t bothered, but I just loved the whole process of making my cup.

I’ve always loved using my hands to build something, I love working with my hands. I think that’s why I love the idea of pottery so much. I felt so free, and all I could think about was making my cup.

Visiting the Farm

This is probably considered, unconventional? Maybe even a bit TikTok-influenced. But I saw this small animal farm online and thought, why not? It was mostly filled with kids, parents trailing behind with strollers or coffee cups. But it didn’t bother me. How old do you really have to be to get excited about goats and barns.

I saw two cows that kept staring at me, like they were trying to figure me out. A barn full of goats, one of which wouldn’t stop going baa (made me laugh out loud). Two horses stayed tucked inside, refusing to deal with the heat. Fair enough. Just me, walking around the farm, walking around like a kid again.

In all of this, the farm, the cafe, the pottery class, I was alone. But I wasn’t lonely. Sure, it would’ve been nice to share those moments with someone or a group of friends and maybe someday I will get to. But for now, I know I can do things by myself. And not just do them but actually enjoy them.

There’s something really special about showing up for yourself. Choosing your own company. It’s quieter, slower. But it’s also more peaceful than I expected. The whole weekend, it made me think about another thing.

Maybe I am burnt out, but maybe I am by doing it all in the wrong context. Is it the kind of environment I’m in, that is making me tired, unmotivated and always just overstimulated? Honestly, it could be. I think sometimes being in the right place, even for a few days, can push you to do more, explore more and be more curious. you start noticing details again. You want to walk, to wander, to talk the long way home, or catch the sunset at the park.

The takeaway from this weekend? Some places drain you. Others breathe life back into you, but I guess we can’t really pick where we end up but I’ve realized for the sake of my own mental health, I probably should make some changes in my life.