What Have I Quietly Stopped Making Room For? A Gentle Reflection on the Things We Miss
The Life I’m Living · Reflection 14
Every so often, something reminds us of a part of our lives we had almost forgotten about.
Perhaps you find something tucked away in a cupboard. A photograph appears on your phone from a few years ago. You hear a particular piece of music, drive past somewhere you used to go or somebody casually asks whether you still do something you once loved.
And you think, Oh gosh. I haven’t done that in ages.
Sometimes there is a very obvious reason. Life changed. Circumstances changed. Something else needed more of us for a while.
But sometimes there really isn’t a reason at all.
We didn’t decide to stop. We didn’t fall out of love with it. We didn’t consciously conclude that this particular person, place, interest or little pleasure no longer belonged in our lives.
We just stopped making room for it.
That is what I want to explore in this next reflection in The Life I’m Living Collection. Having spent some time considering what matters to us now, who we want to stay close to and what deserves our time and attention, perhaps there is another question worth asking.
What have I quietly stopped making room for?
Some Things Disappear Very Quietly
I think we tend to imagine that when something important disappears from our lives, there will be a clear moment when it happens.
Sometimes there is.
But often the things we enjoy most disappear so gradually that we barely notice.
We miss one week because something comes up. We decide we’ll get back to it when things settle down. We stop going somewhere because another routine takes its place. We put something away because we need the table for something else. We don’t arrange the coffee because this week is busy, and then next week is busy too.
Eventually, something that once formed a completely ordinary part of our lives becomes something we used to do.
This is particularly easy because many of the things that bring us pleasure are remarkably undemanding. They don’t generally insist upon being included.
Nobody sends a reminder because you haven’t painted for six months. The garden doesn’t complain because you haven’t sat in it. The friend you’ve been meaning to meet may be equally busy getting through her own weeks. The recipe you wanted to try waits perfectly patiently. The place you love visiting will still be there next month.
So the things with deadlines and consequences naturally move to the front.
And the quieter things wait.
There is nothing particularly wrong with that. There are seasons when something genuinely does need to move aside because another part of life needs more of us.
But every now and again, it can be worth turning around to see what has been waiting.
Life Changes, and Our Lives Change With It
There are so many perfectly ordinary reasons we stop doing things.
Work becomes busier. Children arrive or grow into different stages. We become responsible for somebody else. Money is tighter. We move house. Our health changes. Somebody else’s health changes. A friendship shifts. The people we once did something with are no longer available in the same way.
Sometimes our days simply fill up.
What fitted comfortably into one version of our lives may not fit quite so easily into another.
And I don’t think there is much value in looking back at an earlier season and wondering why we can’t somehow recreate all of it now. The aim isn’t to return to the person we were ten or twenty years ago.
Our lives have moved on.
We have moved on too.
The more interesting question is whether something from an earlier season still belongs in this one.
Perhaps it does, but in a different form.
You might not have an entire afternoon for something you once loved doing, but perhaps twenty minutes would be enough to reconnect with it. You may no longer see somebody every week, but perhaps you would genuinely enjoy seeing them every couple of months. You may not want to return to an old hobby in exactly the way you once practised it, but some part of it may still appeal.
We don’t have to recreate the old life to bring something good from it into the life we’re living now.
Do I Miss It — or Do I Simply Remember It?
This, I think, is one of the most useful distinctions we can make.
Because not everything we used to enjoy needs to come back.
In Reflection 08 · What Have I Outgrown?, we considered the fact that something can have been completely right for us once and simply no longer fit. That applies here too.
There are hobbies I can remember enjoying without having the slightest desire to take them up again. There may be places that hold wonderful memories but belong quite happily in the past. Friendships can have been enormously important during one season and naturally become quieter in another. Traditions can stop fitting. Interests change.
We don’t need to resurrect every earlier version of ourselves in the name of reconnecting with who we are.
So when something from the past comes to mind, perhaps ask:
- Do I actually miss this, or do I simply remember enjoying it?
- When I imagine doing it again, do I feel interested or merely nostalgic?
- Does this still feel like me?
- Is there something about it I miss, even if I don’t want the whole thing back?
- Would I enjoy making room for this in the life I have now?
- Or am I quite content to let it belong to an earlier chapter?
There are no better answers here.
Sometimes recognising that we don’t miss something is every bit as useful as discovering that we do.
What Do I Miss?
But then there are the things that produce a very different feeling.
You think of them and immediately know.
I miss that.
And it doesn’t necessarily have to be a hobby.
Perhaps you miss seeing somebody. Maybe you used to spend more time outdoors. Perhaps there was a little ritual in your week that disappeared when your routine changed.
You might miss listening to music while you cook, taking photographs just because something looked beautiful, wandering around somewhere with no particular purpose, baking when there wasn’t an occasion, having people over, going out, staying in, making something with your hands or learning about something purely because you found it interesting.
You might miss having a little more time alone.
Or perhaps what you miss is company.
You might miss being spontaneous. Dressing up and going somewhere lovely. Sitting outside after dinner. Going for long walks. Doing something slightly ridiculous that served absolutely no useful purpose other than making you laugh.
Sometimes what we miss isn’t even the activity itself.
We miss how we felt when we did it.
Perhaps something made us feel creative. Capable. Curious. Sociable. Peaceful. Adventurous. Playful. More connected. More like ourselves.
And that can tell us much more than simply making a list of old hobbies.
The Things That Feel Too Unnecessary
When life becomes particularly full, we get very good at prioritising what needs to be done.
Understandably so.
There is work to do, a home to maintain, people to care for, meals to make, appointments to keep and all the other responsibilities that come with an ordinary adult life.
And somewhere along the way, the things that aren’t strictly necessary can begin to look expendable.
Flowers on the kitchen table aren’t necessary.
Neither is wandering around a garden centre for an hour, singing loudly in the car, making a cake nobody needs, arranging flowers from the garden, watching the sunset, painting something rather badly, pottering around an antique shop, learning something you have no intention of turning into a qualification or sitting with somebody you like for much longer than you intended.
We can live perfectly functional lives without any of those things.
But a life can become awfully functional if everything in it has to justify the space it takes up.
Some of the things that make our ordinary days feel most like ours have no obvious productive value whatsoever.
They don’t make us more efficient.
They don’t necessarily improve us.
They may not earn money, solve a problem or produce anything worth showing anybody else.
We simply like them.
And sometimes that is reason enough to make a little room.
Perhaps It Isn’t the Thing You Miss
There is another possibility worth considering.
Sometimes when we say we miss something, what we really miss is what surrounded it.
Perhaps you think you miss a hobby you used to do every Tuesday evening, but what you actually miss is having one evening each week that belonged to you.
Maybe you miss a place because of the person you used to visit there.
Perhaps you miss cooking elaborate meals because there was once more time to enjoy the process.
You may think you miss going out more often when what you really miss is anticipation — having something lovely in the diary to look forward to.
Or perhaps an old interest reminds you of a time when you felt more curious, more confident or less responsible for everybody else.
This is where the reflection can become especially interesting, because we don’t necessarily have to bring back the original thing to reclaim what mattered about it.
If what you miss is creativity, there may be a new way to make something.
If you miss connection, perhaps there is somebody you’d like to spend more time with now.
If you miss adventure, you may not need to recreate the holidays you took at twenty-five. Perhaps you simply need somewhere new to go on Saturday.
It is worth asking not only What do I miss? but also:
- What did this give me?
- How did I feel when this was part of my life?
- What part of it am I actually longing for?
- Is there another way I could make room for that feeling now?
Sometimes the answer is the original thing.
Sometimes it isn’t.
Making Room Doesn’t Mean Making a Commitment
This may be particularly important if, like me, you have the ability to turn a passing thought into an entire project before you’ve finished your cup of tea.
You realise you miss painting and suddenly you’re researching easels, reorganising a room and wondering whether Tuesday evenings should henceforth become Painting Night. 😂
But returning to something does not require a declaration.
You don’t need to sign up for twelve weeks.
You don’t need to buy all the equipment.
You don’t need to promise yourself you’ll do it every Wednesday forever.
You can simply visit something again.
Get the paints out one afternoon.
Put some music on while making dinner.
Send the message.
Go back to the place you used to enjoy.
Bake something because you fancy baking.
Take the camera with you.
Sit in the garden.
Try the thing once.
Then notice how it feels.
Perhaps you’ll remember exactly why you loved it and want to make a little more room for it. Perhaps you’ll enjoy it and then leave it for another six months. Perhaps you’ll discover that you don’t actually miss it after all.
All three outcomes are perfectly useful.
Returning to something doesn’t have to mean recommitting to it.
Sometimes we can simply knock on the door of an old interest and see whether we’d still like to come in.
And What About Something New?
Not everything we’re missing necessarily comes from our past.
Sometimes what has quietly been crowded out is curiosity.
There may be something you’ve wanted to try for years but never quite found the time for. Something you’ve wanted to learn about. Somewhere you’ve wanted to visit. A class you’ve repeatedly looked at and then closed the tab. A skill you would enjoy having even though you have absolutely no practical need for it.
Adult life can become very centred around things we already know how to do.
There is something wonderfully freeing about being a beginner at something that doesn’t particularly matter.
No career plan.
No side hustle.
No requirement to become excellent at it.
Just curiosity.
So perhaps this reflection isn’t only about returning to something we’ve lost.
It may also be about making room for something that hasn’t had its turn yet.
Free Printable: What Have I Quietly Stopped Making Room For?
I’ve created another A4 reflection page to accompany this post as part of The Life I’m Living Collection.
What Have I Quietly Stopped Making Room For? gives you a little space to gather the things that may have slipped out of your life without you ever consciously deciding to let them go.
The printable invites you to think about:
- things you used to enjoy
- people and connections you miss
- ways you used to spend your time
- things you’ve been curious about
- whether you genuinely miss something or simply remember it fondly
- one thing you might like to make a little room for again
DOWNLOAD THE FREE WHAT HAVE I QUIETLY STOPPED MAKING ROOM FOR? PRINTABLE
As always, there is absolutely no expectation that you fill every section.
Perhaps you’ll write down ten things. Perhaps one name or one forgotten interest will immediately come to mind and you’ll know that is the thing worth paying attention to.
The printables in The Life I’m Living Collection are tools, not assignments. Use whatever is helpful and leave the rest.
Something I’d Like to Make a Little Room For Again
There is no need to go searching through our past for missing pieces of ourselves.
We aren’t puzzles that need to be put back together.
But I do think it is worth occasionally noticing the things we enjoyed enough to miss.
The person whose company we would genuinely love.
The thing we always meant to return to.
The small pleasure that somehow disappeared.
The curiosity we keep postponing.
Not because our lives are incomplete without them, but because sometimes the life we already have can feel a little more like ours when we make room for things that serve no purpose beyond bringing something good into an ordinary day.
Perhaps something has been coming to mind while you’ve been reading this.
You don’t need to make a plan for it.
You certainly don’t need to turn it into another commitment.
Maybe just make a little room for it once.
And see.
Continue The Life I’m Living Collection
Previous: Reflection 13 · What Deserves My Time and Attention?
A gentle reflection on what captures our attention, what deserves more of it and where we would like to be a little more present in the life we’re already living.
Next: Reflection 15 · What Makes My Ordinary Life Feel Meaningful?
The final reflection in What Matters Now brings the chapter together by looking at the people, places, routines, work, interests and small everyday moments that give our particular lives meaning from the inside.
Or return to The Life I’m Living Collection to explore all the reflections and free printables in the series.
VISIT THE LIFE I’M LIVING COLLECTION →
Chat soon,
Ciara x
Before You Go…
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Our Little House in the Country
Hi, I’m Ciara — writer, homemaker, and the heart behind Our Little House in the Country. I share slow, seasonal living from our cozy corner of the Irish countryside, where life is a little messy, a little magical, and deeply real. Whether it’s a teen-friendly recipe, a lived-in home moment, or a reminder to let go of perfection, this space is about embracing the everyday and finding joy in what’s already here. Come in, kick off your shoes, and stay a while — the kettle’s always on.
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