Mastering the art of being a Flâneur
My 2025 resolution, sorted.
On Friday, I found myself becoming a Flâneur of sorts. With no schedule or long to-do list to attend to, I became someone who simply wandered about the city with no other agenda than to simply observe my surroundings. And it was both blissful and a little unsettling.
For weeks I’ve been meaning to ‘nip’ into the city to pick up some jewellery I was having repaired. But now that I no longer work in the city and instead find myself bound to my home or tethered to the schedules of my children, I never really get a chance to ‘nip’ anywhere. And certainly never alone.
But with Christmas speeding round the corner and knowing that, despite my best efforts to keep my calendar as clear as possible, this week will inevitably be a shitshow of daycare drop offs, Christmas concerts, family catch ups and final work deadlines—Friday felt like my last chance to do any sort of ‘nipping’. And it was fabulous.
While yes technically there was one task I had to tick off during my sojourn to the city, in and of itself this took less than five minutes and I immediately found myself pondering whether I should simply jump straight back on the train home—no doubt working all the way—or instead, just wander about. Given it was the most spectacular sunny Sydney day, I chose the latter—and it was wonderful.
Although the term Flâneur originally derives from 19th-century Paris, its most simple definition is that of someone who is ‘idle about town’, wandering through the crowds, allowing their nose to take them wherever they feel most drawn, unencumbered by time or tasks.
So, with nothing but a handbag looped across my arm, I found myself joyfully wandering aimlessly through the bustling streets, popping into shops, gazing at window displays and people watching for no other reason than because I could.
Prior to having children I would have described myself as someone who certainly Flâneur-ed on occasion. I love wandering through art galleries or idling about in bookstores for hours on end. But with two young children in tow, I must admit that this sort of faffing about simply doesn’t edge its way into my day anymore.
Instead, I find myself guilty of forever trying to tick things off a to-do list that never gets any shorter. If anything, the to-do list only seems to grow and evolve in ever-more complex directions, no matter how much effort or time I put into attending to its demands. I’m also someone who finds themself forever ‘busy’ but not really busy as each day feels a bit like Groundhog Day—with work almost wedging itself into the moments in between the daily grind of domestic life.
But what Friday showed me was that perhaps all I really need is a little distance from my to-do list. Given the tasks that require my attention usually fall within a 10km radius of my home—if I venture beyond that invisible boundary, perhaps the weight they carry will also lighten.
So while I still have a long way to go before I join the ranks of Baudelaire and the 19th-century artists and muses who were, in essence, professional Flâneurs—I’m definitely going to try and let myself off the hook a little and surrender to the fact that the to-do list will never really end, so a few hours of faffing could be the perfect antidote to an otherwise very full, very frantic life.
So glad you got to do this! Sounds like the dream, hope to work much more of this into my 2025 too xx