Play
When we contemplate the world we live in, a world of jobs, family
responsibilities, environmental threats, war, financial instability and
endless politics, it can be difficult to give ourselves permission to
play. We know that "All work and no play makes Johnny a dull
boy," but somehow we have convinced ourselves that we should only play
once all the work is
done. What a terrible, stifling, soul-destroying, dehumanizing
restriction to put on ourselves!
I'm sure that our short stay on this planet is supposed to be
fun. When you think of it, what sane person would choose misery
over joy, burdens over lightness, or slavery over freedom? It is
a true testament to the perversity of the human spirit that our culture
nurtures this monstrous imbalance. Even worse, most of us have
bought into this premise hook, line and sinker. Past the age of
12 or so, play becomes somewhat suspect. The message is, "Grow
up, settle down, get a job, raise a family." They never seem to
add, "but remember every once in a while to take off your shoes and run
barefoot through a dew-soaked field just for the hell of it."
To those whose god is Progress rather than Being, the very notion of
play is threatening. After all, if we were to decide that we
wanted to devote more of our time to play, we might decide that we've
had about enough Progress for now, thank you very much, and perhaps it
is time to enjoy the fruits of our labour. To those with inhuman
agendas such ideas are heresy, and must be rooted out at every
turn. So they carefully organize our play, giving us professional
sports where we can act as spectators, receiving a simulation of play
while never straying outside the corporate hive, and all the while
laying our admission fees on the altar of Progress.
Let's do a little experiment. Imagine a big grassy field.
On that field is one lone person turning endless somersaults. What is
your reaction? For many of us it will be something like, "How
strange! I wonder why they're doing that, there seems to be no
reason for it." Now imagine that same field, but with a hundred
people in it turning somersaults. Now our reaction is
different. It's probably more along the lines of, "Ah, there must
be some kind of event going on. That looks like fun, I wonder who
is sponsoring it?" Does anyone else feel uncomfortable with what those
reactions say about the world we have created?
Play reconnects us to our inner child, to that core of endless
creativity, innocence and fun that ranks right up there with love as a
reason for living. Take time to play. If it makes you
uncomfortable at first, do it with your eyes closed so no one can see
you. Keep playing, and eventually you might think to yourself,
"Hey this isn't as bad as I thought!" With enough practice you
might decide that an hour of play is more valuable than an hour of
overtime, and why should you spend so much of your life doing things
that aren't fun? Be careful, though, that way lies sanity.
As a great sage once said, "Life is
short. Eat dessert first!"
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