The Price of Fun: Rediscovering joy Beyond the Hype

I recently thought about going to see Jerry Seinfeld. He’s iconic. I watched his show for years—not just the reruns—and somewhere along the way I convinced myself that seeing him live must be one of the best experiences out there. After all, he performs in large venues, and tickets are sold at premium prices.

The cheapest seats I could find for two were $178.

That got me thinking: What else could I do with $178?

Here’s the deeper question: How often are we conditioned to believe something is worth it simply because the world around us tells us it is?

Conditioning shows up quietly. If it’s a famous name, a big venue, a trendy restaurant, or the “must-see” event, we assume it must be the best way to have fun. For some people, the cost isn’t a concern. For others, it’s worth it because they truly love the experience. But for many of us, we may be spending money not because it brings us real joy—but because we believe it’s what fun is supposed to look like.

Somewhere along the way, we may have forgotten the art of simple enjoyment.

During the COVID shutdowns, when big events disappeared, I remember walking along the canal and seeing it filled with people. Families, couples, friends—walking, biking, sitting, breathing fresh air. As a therapist, my heart swelled. People were choosing something free that was also giving them movement, sunlight, connection, and calm. That combination is powerful medicine for the mind and body.

Joy doesn’t have to come with a high ticket price.

Near me is a small community theater called MuCCC (Multi-use Community Cultural Center). It’s intimate—maybe 100 seats—and offers affordable performances, local talent, and a welcoming atmosphere. Snacks are donation-based. The experience feels personal, creative, and real.

Some of my favorite days around Rochester cost almost nothing. Parking the car and walking downtown. Exploring a hiking trail in a nearby town. Wandering through a neighborhood I’ve never seen before. To some people, this might feel uncertain or even a little unconventional. But the return on investment—in curiosity, movement, and mental space—is enormous.

High-cost entertainment has quietly become a cultural standard for happiness. And in a time when many people already feel financial pressure, this standard may actually be contributing to stress and anxiety.

Joy and peace often live somewhere else entirely.

They live in creativity.In slowing down.In asking yourself: What do I actually want to do?

Yes, you can fly to Florida or Paris. But you can also drive an hour or two and discover festivals, farmers markets, small towns, hidden cafés, local art, window shopping, or a quiet trail in nature.

Whenever I hear someone say, “I’m going on vacation,” I sometimes wonder—why does vacation have to be far away? Why can’t it be today? Or this weekend?

A vacation is attention.A vacation is permission.A vacation is choosing something that restores you.

Many people worry that if they aren’t doing the next big or trendy thing, others won’t see them as fun. That they won’t have the photos, the stories, or the bragging rights.

But the better question is:

Are you actually having fun?

Real enjoyment doesn’t come from impressing others. It comes from alignment—with your energy, your values, your curiosity, and your sense of meaning.

Maybe fun for you is a concert.Maybe it’s a community play.Maybe it’s a long walk somewhere new.Maybe it’s doing something quiet, simple, and completely your own.

The price of joy is often much lower than we’ve been led to believe.

And sometimes the most meaningful fun begins when you pause and ask yourself—not the culture, not your friends, not social media—

What does fun really mean to me?