Nadine J Walters – My Life

Question to Myself: What Is Your Thing?

Answer to Myself:
Honestly, I have no clue — it was just a question that popped up in a book I’m reading. Still, it’s a phrase I’ve heard many times over the years (remember, I’m old!). It’s one of those expressions that floats around in conversations without always having a clear meaning.

Here are a few definitions of “your thing” I found online:

• Your thing is what drives, motivates, or interests you most. It’s often something you’re good at — your main focus, an area of expertise.
• “That’s your thing” can also mean a habitual behavior, a particular way of doing something, or something that brings you joy.
• As a verb, “doing your thing” means doing what you want, regardless of what others think. Example: I’ve always done my thing, and I don’t see a great amount of benefit from changing now.

And then, of course, there’s the song — “It’s Your Thing” by the Isley Brothers (which I now can’t get out of my head). In it, the singer gives the girl he’s serenading permission to do whatever she wants — as long as he gets a little something too! This one is kind of creepy now that I think about it.

The book I’m reading, however, offered a different take. It described “your thing” as a place of stillness, well-being, or joy. I like that interpretation. It feels more wholesome, grounded, and natural than the definitions I found online.

For me, “my thing” is a collection of simple comforts and quiet motivators I return to again and again. Whether in work, hobbies, or relationships, we all have activities and places that help us reset — the familiar, soothing parts of life that restore us.

I suppose my thing includes my family, my home, and the outdoors of southern Utah. It’s also my favorite foods and drinks, the rituals and routines I look forward to. Over time, my “thing” hasn’t really changed — it’s just shifted to match my age and mindset. When I was younger, it was all about movement, momentum, and chasing experiences. Now, it’s slower, quieter — but still very much present.

Everyone has their own thing — maybe it’s shared, maybe it’s entirely personal — but it’s comforting to know it’s always there. That thing we come back to, the one that gives us a sense of home, grounding, and well-being. After all these years, I realize that whatever it is, it’s mine. And that’s enough.