What Brought You Joy as a Child?

Yesterday we went to the A&P Show at the Lake Hayes Grounds—something we’ve done every year since living in Queenstown. It’s one of those annual rituals that quietly anchors time, marking the years without much fuss.

This year, I entered two sections: a tractor sculpture and a garden gnome, both made from natural resources and recycled materials. And—much to my delight—I won both categories. Which was pretty cool… but also not really the point.

What it did do was bring me right back to something much deeper: what brought me joy as a child.

When I was young, I loved creating. Crafts, sewing, gardening, cross-stitch—if I could make something with my hands, I was in. There was something about the passiveness of it, the way time softened and expectations disappeared. There was no pressure to be good at it. No outcome to achieve. Just the quiet, intrinsic reward of the process… and the small but satisfying moment of completion.

And I realise now—that joy never actually left. It just waited patiently.

I ask my clients this question often:

What brought you joy as a child?

Or more specifically: What did you love doing when no one was watching, when there were no gold stars, no performance metrics, no pressure to turn it into something productive or impressive?

Because those things matter. They’re clues.

Being able to return to those activities as an adult feels incredibly grounding. Not because they lead anywhere—but because they don’t have to. In a world that constantly asks us to optimise, improve, and perform, doing something purely for the love of it is quietly rebellious.

My daughter was also involved in the show and won a few bits and pieces of her own. Watching her create, enter, and enjoy it without overthinking reminded me how naturally children follow joy—and how easily adults forget we’re allowed to do the same.

The truth is, it doesn’t matter how old you get. You are still allowed to do the things you loved as a child. You are still allowed to make things slowly. To enjoy the process. To feel proud without needing validation.

And perhaps most importantly, these moments don’t just bring joy. They calm the nervous system. They return us to ourselves. They remind us that we are not here only to produce, but to experience.

Sometimes, joy isn’t something new we need to find.

Sometimes, it’s something very old we simply need to remember.