A few weeks ago my dear friend Milan invited me on her family's boat. Unfortunately, due to the drought this year, we have to drive quite a ways off in order to find a lake with water in it. Almost the entirety of her extended family took the day off of work to join us, which made for a much more fun afternoon! I've known them for almost 10 years, so at this point they really are like family to me too.
They are so fun to be around. Despite our differing political opinions (and I mean VERY differing), her mom, dad, aunts, uncles, and grandparents still welcome me with open arms. No matter the time of day, we are always laughing about something. They support me in everything I do and I could not be more grateful to be a part of their lives! But one of the things I love most is that I can always play with the youngest kids of the family.
On this particular day the kids were begging to play some sort of game on shore. However, the adults were already drinking beer and sprawling out across an assortment of floaties, showing no signs of any desire to move. So naturally, landing with a splash into the warm, turquoise water, I quickly made my way over to the shore along with two 6-year-olds and an 8-year-old. Their parents shouted across the lake "thank you so much for watching my kids!" and I shouted back "of course!" But little did they know... I really just wanted to play make believe too (lol).
So for the next 30 minutes, we did just that. We rubbed dirt across our faces to make war paint, gathered berries and nuts, pretended to catch fish with spears, created fake names for ourselves, and collected various sticks to make "shelter." I had so much fun that I did not notice any time passing. It was easier than I thought to use creativity, as we came up with different ways to make the game more fun. Truthfully, (and maybe a little selfishly) my intentions weren't even to give the parents a break from their kiddos. I think I really wanted to use this as my excuse to play the way I used to!
As an education major, in college I once took a class on how to teach Physical Education to children. We spent a large chunk of our daily lessons playing different games that were designed to engage the kiddos in different ways. My peers and I--ages ranging from 19-25--found ourselves doubled over in laughter almost every day as we chased each other across the grass or attempted to kick a hacky sack back and fourth. It was one of the best parts of my day and ultimately became a truly wonderful way for us to relax and bond. We sort of justified our fun by telling ourselves that we were testing out the games before passing them on to children, but it was clear to me that everyone really enjoyed the excuse to act like a kid again!
My day at the lake with Milan's family really got me thinking, when do we stop "playing?" At what age do we seem too old to play? One of my favorite movies, one that represents this idea quite well, is Pixar's Inside Out. Main character Riley has an imaginary friend named Bing Bong, a bright pink elephant-looking creature who is always having fun. Later on in the film, Bing Bong hops aboard the imagination train, also called her "train of thought," and slowly begins to fade before disappearing completely. This scene has never once failed to make me cry! It makes me incredibly sad that children at some point lose their sense of wonder and imagination as they begin to grow up. But--in my humble opinion--this doesn't necessarily have to be the case.
It seems that society tells us once we reach somewhere around middle school that playing is for "babies," and that we should start to act our age. Middle schoolers no longer have recess and, if you were anything like me at 12, you get made fun of for still playing with Barbies. Now I'm not saying that 22-year-olds should take out their Barbies and start to play with them again (I mean I wouldn't judge, but to each their own). Playing at the lake simply helped me realize that we all would be a lot better off if we cared a little less what people thought and dove a little deeper into our world of imagination.
Playing can look different for everyone. Maybe it's simply chasing your dog around in the backyard. Maybe it means spending more time around kids, getting down on the floor on their level and making plastic dinosaurs roar loudly. If you're me, it means spending (a little too much) money on a really cool Harry Potter Lego set to build by yourself! At the end of the day, it doesn't matter how we play (look at me rhyming!). I encourage everyone to take a break from their busy, stressful day to do something that might feel a little bit silly. The sense of wonder and excitement that suddenly arrives might just surprise you. :)
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