I’m on a mission to ‘find myself’ again and as part of my mission, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.

One of the things that has struck me the most is the realisation that currently, I don’t do anything interesting or joyful in my spare time, which isn’t related to my work or being a wife or mum.

Hobbies? I have practically zilch. Sound familiar?

My life is full and busy, which is a blessing. My work is going strong, which I’ve very grateful for. But in terms of fun, learning for just the sake of enjoyment or dare I say it, play, I’ve realised I need to do so much better.

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When I was at primary school, I played the violin and I loved it.

One of my most vivid memories from this time is of me gleefully applying violin rosin to my bow (never a chore as I loved the smell) before standing proudly in front of my Mum to play her my latest musical piece. I’m pretty sure it didn’t always sound wonderful to her (the violin isn’t the easiest to master!) but to me, well it was music to my ears.

To the disappointment of both my parents and tutor, I gave up playing just before secondary school. Being eleven can be terrifying and I had this huge fear I would be seen as a ‘snob’ and made fun of or worse, bullied, so I ditched my musical love. I don’t have many regrets in life, but that is one of mine.

A year later, I realised how daft I’d been and took up the flute instead but it was a poor replacement for my beloved violin and we parted ways not longer after.

Sport was something I really enjoyed and was a big part of my childhood. I played in netball, rounders and hockey teams and represented my school at athletics, until getting up early on a Saturday morning no longer appealed, once I began to indulge in underage drinks with friends the night before.

At University, besides partying, it was all about the words as I wrote for the student newspaper and in my twenties, you could often find me in the gym or at an exercise class. In my early thirties, I dabbled in fashion with a sewing class and somehow managed to cobble together a pencil skirt (that fitted!) out of a green sparkly vintage fabric.

And during all of these years, from as young as I can remember, I read. Book after book after book. Reading was -and still is – my favourite hobby and I’ve always been committed to it.

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But then life, as it does, got busier and as my children grew, so too did my piles of never-read books.

I stopped reading fiction as I no longer had the energy or time to consume it and swapped out novels for shorter books, about personal development or style, that were easier to dip in and out of and needed less commitment.

On summer holidays, I’d still always pack a few new books, determined that I would somehow manage to read at least one of them whilst away. But going on holiday with young children leaves little time to sit and cocoon yourself in the carefully crafted words of another and so they too would return home with me, unopened with pages barely touched.

Stories, like children, deserve and demand frequent time and attention. So when I didn’t have much of those to offer, even my most beloved hobby of all, took a huge hit.

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So when it comes to hobbies, I’m trying to do better.

I’ve been inspired recently by my 11 year old daughter and her enthusiasm for joining after school classes and taking up the piano. The way she is happily and eagerly throwing herself into new activities with new friends, just for the joy of it. Challenging herself to learning something new, possibly uncovering a new talent or at the very least, trying something she hasn’t tried before.

She’s reminded me that I too used to be like this and that I also deserve to have some time and energy for hobbies, regardless of how busy my life is or how many responsibilities I shoulder.

Play and the opportunity to play are both integral, not just to a child’s happiness but also to their development from a mini human into a grown one. But what about us adults? Aren’t these things integral to our contentment and growth too?

After all, how can we truly know who we are and what we’re about if we don’t even have the time to figure out what we enjoy or what interests us? Or if we don’t allow ourselves the necessary space to be creative, move our bodies or just ‘be’?

So, after listening to the pull of my heart, I’ve made a start and returned to my favourite hobby of all. I’ve started reading again. Not for personal development or work – as has been the case for years – but simply for pleasure.

On my new school run routine, I’ve stopped spending my ‘park up’ time on answering work emails and instead, I sit and read. Ten minutes here, 15 minutes there. In the space of just a week and a half, I’m already just a few chapters away from finishing Viola Davis’ excellent autobiography and my now dedicated reading time has become one of the highlights of my day.

A tiny step in the right direction towards more play, more enjoyment and rediscovering me.

Finally, remember my violin days? Well, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s never too late to pick up from where I left off and so I’ve started searching for a neglected violin that needs a new home and a pair of loving arms.

I’m thinking – and hoping! – that with a lot of practice and a little commitment, my old beloved violin may just help me find more, of my music, again.