Quiet mornings, empty calendars: a new definition of “a good time”
For many adults, the classic idea of fun—hours spent getting ready, loud bars, crowded venues, and the inevitable next-day hangover—is steadily losing its appeal. In its place, a different set of priorities is emerging: routines that feel restorative rather than performative, and social time that feels meaningful rather than exhausting.
A widely shared personal essay by writer Lachlan Brown captures this cultural shift in plain terms. The piece argues that what some people label “getting boring” is often something else entirely: a move away from temporary stimulation and toward habits that deliver steadier satisfaction. The essay lists six “simple pleasures” that increasingly outshine parties and nights out, reflecting what psychologists often describe as changing motivations with age—less novelty-seeking for its own sake, and more focus on wellbeing, connection, and control of one’s time.
1) The appeal of a perfectly quiet morning
One of the clearest changes described is the growing value of silence and solitude—particularly in the early hours. Brown describes waking before the world is active, not to maximize productivity but to enjoy the absence of demands: no urgent messages, no social pressure, no noise.
He recalls time spent in Vietnam, observing locals lingering at cafés without laptops or agendas, simply watching daily life unfold. The point is not nostalgia, but a reframing: quiet has become a premium experience. As people age, the essay suggests, peace can feel more luxurious than stimulation.
2) Weekends with nowhere to be
Another pleasure is the unplanned weekend—an empty calendar that once might have triggered anxiety but now feels like freedom. Brown ties this to the idea of non-striving, a concept he discusses in his book Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego. In this framing, constant scheduling and optimization can create stress rather than fulfillment.
The essay portrays unscheduled time as a form of autonomy: the ability to wake without an alarm, follow one’s energy, and change plans without guilt. Rather than being “lazy,” the argument goes, protecting downtime can be a deliberate strategy for mental health and resilience.
3) Cooking from scratch as creativity and care
Home cooking—once seen as a chore or an inefficient use of time—emerges as a source of satisfaction. Brown describes spending hours making pasta from scratch, an activity his younger self would have dismissed. Now, the process itself is the reward: working with one’s hands, focusing on a single task, and producing something tangible.
He also links the shift to life changes, including becoming a father. Cooking becomes not just self-care but an expression of care for others and a way to build family rituals. In a broader sense, the essay frames cooking as “mindfulness in action,” a screen-free activity that can reduce stress and restore a sense of control.
4) Deep conversations over wider social circles
Where social life once meant meeting as many people as possible, Brown argues that many adults begin to prefer depth over breadth. The ideal evening becomes a long conversation with one close friend—discussion that moves beyond small talk and allows for vulnerability, reflection, and even comfortable silence.
The essay presents this as a shift from “collection” to connection: fewer acquaintances, more trusted relationships. It’s a theme that aligns with common observations in adult development—social networks may shrink, but emotional closeness often becomes more important than novelty.
5) Early bedtimes as a form of rebellion
Perhaps the most emblematic “getting older” moment is embracing an early bedtime. Brown describes going to sleep around 9:30 p.m. not as surrender, but as a conscious choice in a culture that celebrates late nights and constant hustle.
He frames sleep as a foundational performance enhancer—more effective than supplements or productivity hacks—and notes how rest improves mood, creativity, and patience. The essay also highlights a modern twist on the old fear of missing out: JOMO, or the joy of missing out, where skipping late-night plans feels like a win rather than a loss.
6) Walking with no destination
Finally, the essay describes the simple pleasure of walking without an agenda—no fitness tracking, no podcast queue, no set route. Brown links this to walking meditation, again referencing ideas explored in Hidden Secrets of Buddhism, where the journey is the point.
These aimless walks, he writes, can generate clarity, creativity, and emotional processing. They are low-cost, low-barrier, and widely accessible—yet capable of delivering the kind of calm that many people once sought in louder, more expensive nightlife.
From external validation to internal satisfaction
The broader message is that aging does not automatically narrow life—it can refine it. The essay argues that these pleasures are not consolation prizes but “upgrades”: they last longer than a fleeting buzz, cost less than a night out, and leave people feeling better the next morning.
Whether the trend is driven by changing responsibilities, shifting biology, or a reevaluation of what “fun” is supposed to look like, the takeaway is consistent: many adults are choosing simplicity, rest, and intentional connection over intensity and spectacle. And for those who find themselves genuinely excited by quiet mornings, home-cooked meals, or an empty Saturday, the essay offers a straightforward conclusion—this isn’t decline. It’s clarity.
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