Play!

I’m convinced that I don’t play nearly enough.  Neither do most adults.  Instead, we work, work, work—and then end up with hypertension, ulcers, sleepless nights, depressed and anxious.  One of the common themes clients present in therapy centers on the lack of vitality and joy in their lives—qualities that are directly related to the inability (and sometimes unwillingness) to play.

In his book Play, Stuart Brown asserts that play is “the single most significant factor in determining our success and happiness.”  While he does not offer a definition of play, he identifies several properties of play:  play is voluntary, does not have an apparent purpose (and is done for its own sake), provides freedom from time, has an inherent attraction.  When we play, we lose a sense of time and become less self-conscious.  Play allows us to improvise, experiment.  And once we start playing, we often want to continue.

In my experience, play requires a certain degree of courage.  You have to be willing to enter an unknown; you have to be willing to fail; you have to be willing to be vulnerable; you have to be able to be silly.  Sometimes playing means letting go of ideas about what “should” be, ideas about identity, ideas about propriety.

If you watch children at play, you see that they are fully engaged in their activities.  They experiment, try out behaviors and roles—and are willing to fail.  If something doesn’t work, children just move on and try something else.  Play is how they learn about themselves and the world.  Indeed, play is essential to the healthy social and emotional development of children. 

Over the years, I’ve increasingly come to believe that playfulness is just as essential to healthy adulthood as it is to children.   Play helps us recalibrate.  It helps us turn off our judging minds and be more fully present to one another. It can help lift us out of a depression or alleviate feelings of anxiety.  Play nourishes us, and, not insignificantly, gives us joy—something most adults sorely lack but which we also crave.  Non-competitive play is probably one of the single most important activities adults can undertake for their well-being.  (Competition, while fun, is not necessarily playful because it is characterized by a striving against your competitors.  Non-competitive play tends to be cooperative and builds relationships.)

So play!  You'll feel better

Being Good

You are a responsible adult.  You work, support your family, pay the bills, tend to your spouse and children.  You try to do what’s right.  Yet you’re plagued with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction.  And although you’re not necessarily looking for excitement, you feel that something is missing.  You can’t quite pinpoint what’s wrong.  You get along with your spouse or partner, and when disagreements arise you work to smooth things over.  You want to make your partner happy and you go out of your way to insure that he or she feels cared for.  You have the sense that something needs to change, but can’t identify what change would look like.

You’re a nice person.  You’re a good wife; you’re a good husband.  So what’s wrong?

Being “good” creates safety, and we all need to feel safe.  But being “good” often carries a price.  Being “good” can be emotionally confining, especially since being “good” usually has a lot of rules attached to it:  “the needs of others come first,” “work before play,” “don’t rock the boat,” “take responsibility,” “don’t be selfish.”  Being “good” can be emotionally inauthentic, especially if it doesn’t allow you to have and express all your thoughts and feelings in relationship.  When that happens, being “good” becomes a role—a role that is largely one dimensional. 

You are much more than that.

“Good” husbands and “good” wives were often “good sons” and “good daughters”—children who obeyed the family rules and who did not ask for too much lest Mom or Dad criticize and reject them.  “Good” boys and girls are taught to be sensitive to others, to be care-full (literally, full of care), and mindful about their place in the world.  “Good” girls and boys play it safe and know how to create safety for themselves and others.  Indeed, “good” sons and daughters grow up to be “good” husbands and wives—dutiful and safe, but often not quite satisfied with their lives and relationships. 

(Truth be told, the partners and spouses of “good” people may not be satisfied either, and the dissatisfaction may be mystifying to both.  “He’s a good father.  He takes care of me and the kids. I don’t know why I feel restless.”  “She’s my rock; she’s takes care of everything I don’t have time for.  I love being married to her, but I just don’t feel a spark anymore.” “Things are good, but the joy has gone out of our relationship.”)

The trouble is that rigid adherence to being “good” often disconnects us from the richness of our emotional lives and from our deeper desires.  Being “good” can prevent us from the taking the risks we might need to take in order to truly be successful and happy in our relationships—as well as in business, social circles, and our overall lives.  “Good” people are prone to losing touch with their deeper desires because desire threatens the stability of their lives and relationships, stability created by being too centered on care-giving and care-taking. 

Desire can take us beyond ourselves.  Desire draws and binds us to others.  And because it does so, desire is unsettling:  desire points to possibilities for our lives that, though attractive, may seem uncomfortably beyond our reach.  Desire can feel unsafe and can even be dangerous:  there may be aspects of desire that seem transgressive because they don’t conform to our ideas about ourselves, what it means to be an adult, or what it is socially acceptable.  Desire also requires that we take risks—risks that may require that we let go of the ideas we have about being “good.”

Growing up and becoming an adult means taking a look at ideas and assumptions we have about ourselves, about what it means to be “good”, and about what it means to be responsible.  It also means getting in touch with our desires, examining them, and figuring out how to give them space in our lives.  Growing up may mean letting go of being “good”.

Healthy adults balance desire with responsibility.  We can attend to and care for others, AND we can attend to our desires.  In relationships, this means giving voice to our desires.  While we may not always choose to act upon our desires, giving them attention can help us know ourselves so that we can grow beyond the “good son”, the “good daughter”, the “good wife” the “good” husband.  When we will grow up out of “being good” and live authentically, we enrich our relationships and are likely to feel more satisfied with our lives.