The Serious Work of Play
Play: verb.- engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose
When was the last time you played? Like really truly played a card game or played catch with the football or played the piano just for fun? No strings attached.
I’m sitting on the sofa in the living room listening to my boys upstairs. They are master players. Be it make-believe worlds, complete with costumes and props, a single tree in the backyard perfect for climbing, or a basket of legos in the loft—they take the work of play very seriously. And lately I have found myself in awe of their focus. Mostly I am frustrated by this focus that cannot be broken by three or four reminders to brush their teeth or pick up their toys, but right now, as I listen at a distance as a mere spectator, I am inspired.
I’d like to think of myself as someone who values rest and joyful pursuits. I am a self professed collector of moments. And you will often find me pursuing one of my many hobbies—going for a run, taking pictures of my boys, drafting a blog, etc. But by Google’s definition of play, if I’m being honest, can I really call it that? When I run, I am usually tracking my progress, trying to beat an old time or train for a race. When I’m writing, I’m often thinking about how my words will land with my readers: is my content relatable, click-worthy? When I pull out the camera, I’m taking mental note of what I might be able to use for a future post. Even when I’m playing with my kids, I’m often far off in thought or chronically tidying the trail of toys they leave in their wakes. Every action is bathed in forethought, constantly ascribing purpose to what was meant to simply be fun, an outlet, playtime.
We don’t have time to waste being productive when there are so many stories to tell and moments to experience together.
I think most, if not all, of our decisions throughout the day should be bathed in purpose and intentionality. After all, we waste a lot of time scrolling, binging, and numbing out when those attributes aren’t our drivers. But how often do we do things for the sole purpose of enjoyment? I’m not talking about watching YouTube shorts or raiding the junk food in the pantry. I’m talking about reading a book simply to get lost in the story. I’m talking about going for a family bike ride because the weather was nice and golden hour hits different this time of year. I’m talking about busting out Scrabble with our spouses after the kids are in bed instead of shutting our minds off to another episode of White Collar.
Some of my favorite moments of play have been with our best friends, racing down the driveway on tiny tricycles, doing trick jumps on their giant beanbag chair, rock climbing on the manmade rock wall in their old barn, belting out the lyrics to Drops of Jupiter in the car. I never laugh as hard as I do when we are together. These days, those moments are few and far between because they now live two states away. But as soon as our worlds reunite, we jump right back in as though no time at all has passed. We don’t have time to waste being productive when there are so many stories to tell and moments to experience together.
When I look at my boys—often clothed in capes and face paint—I feel that yearning deep in my chest that begs the question, “what if I were to take play as seriously as they did?” What would my life look like if I spent a fraction of the time they did enjoying the gift of simply being alive? What if I (we) were to commit to playing every day? Even if just for five minutes? One thing that we do for pleasure. Nothing detrimental, obviously. But something that makes us laugh until we feel it in our bellies? Or just something that causes us to smile and feel like a kid again. How much richer would our lives be if we began to see the world as something wonderful to behold and not just a problem to solve.
