Permission to Play

Do you remember screaming in to your driveway, fishtailing your Dukes of Hazard Big Wheel, shoes untied, chapped upper lip and a belly full of Mom’s lunchtime quesadillas? Think harder. It’s in there somewhere. Or maybe for some of you it feels like yesterday.

The other day I found myself feeling morose. No reason really. Just kind of kickin’ the proverbial can down a road to nowhere. In an attempt to alleviate my spirits I began to think of things that would lift my spirits. An ice cold beer at the end of the day always makes me smile. But then I thought some more…

I was looking forward to that beer because it’s a relief. You made it. You survived the pushes, pulls and demands and this frosty beverages says, “relax…..you made it…good job”, which begs the question, “am I simply surviving each day?” If I am, I shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t there be some level of enjoyment? A lightness to it all? And then it occurred to me. When was the last time I did something that channeled that inner child who rode a big wheel with a belly full of quesadillas? When was the last time I…..played?

Yes….play. A word not often thrown around at this stage of your life. Seems childish, but stick with me….

According to Dutch cultural historian Johan Huizinga “play is a free activity standing quite consciously outside ‘ordinary’ life as being ‘not serious,’ but at the same time absorbing the player intensely and utterly. It is an activity connected with no material interest, and no profit can be gained by it.”

When was the last time you stood outside of the ordinary? Or left the analytical mind bullshit at the door? I suspect it’s been a while for many of you. Was for me.

So I untied my shoes, ate a quesadilla, pulled a tarp out of the garage and went surfing with the two who know how to play best. My 10 and 8 year old boys. Turns out ordinary is not really where the life resides after all. Permission to play. See you out there.