By Eve Bell

Once upon a time, Sundays carried an air of enforced tranquility.

Shops were shut, activities were limited, and the world collectively agreed to simmer down. The Sabbath, as it was traditionally known, was rooted in religious practice. A day of rest and worship. Even for the non-religious, it was a chance to pause. A day so quiet you could almost hear the dust settling.

I remember when I was growing up, Sundays were so dull.

No shops, no entertainment, and certainly no distractions like today’s scrolling vortex. No one really played out on Sundays because it was a family day or a day to go to church.

But, looking back, there was magic hidden in the monotony. I used to make dance routines up in my bedroom. I would read or write stories. We shared a roast dinner. Mainly, those were days to play or go for a walk somewhere new with my mum and dad. There was no to-do list, and there was time.

One Sunday stands out. Somewhere in the arse end of Wales, our car decided to pack it in. There we were, stranded, with no garages open and no options but to wait. No internet to check, no quick fixes. Just time. We had to sit in the silence of a world that wouldn’t bend for us. Looking back, it’s a perfect snapshot of what Sundays once were.

Inconvenient but beautifully unhurried.

When Did It All Stop?

The tide began to turn in the 1990s when Sunday trading laws were relaxed. Shops opened, routines shifted, and the sacred slowness of Sunday began to dissolve. Convenience became king, and suddenly, Sundays weren’t special. They were just another Saturday, only with slightly shorter opening hours.

The irony of it is that in all our newfound freedom to do everything, we lost the joy of doing nothing.

Can We Bring It Back?

Recapturing Sundays isn’t about ditching the conveniences of modern life. Iit’s about reintroducing simplicity and stillness. It’s about choosing one day to stand apart, where time moves slower and the world feels quieter.

• Start with a shared meal. Bring back Sunday dinner, even if it’s pizza. It’s not about the roast; it’s about the connection. Phones down, conversation up.
• Say no to busy. Treat Sundays like a protected species. No endless errands, no squeezing in “just one more thing.” Let the day be a full stop.
• Do something analogue. Read a book, go for a walk, write a letter. Anything that doesn’t involve a screen will do.
• Allow for boredom. Let yourself and your family experience a bit of that old-school stillness. It’s uncomfortable at first, but that’s where the magic happens.
• Plan for nothing. No itineraries, no to-do lists. Just let the day unfold as it will. Let the day breathe.

It’s not about turning back the clock but about reclaiming what Sundays used to offer: a little space, a little slowness, and a chance to recalibrate before the week begins again.

So here’s to Sundays.

The quiet rebellion against the rush.