Who exactly decided that you have to outgrow playtime? This thought has vexed me for quite a bit now. I don’t buy into that crap — that’s right, you heard me. Why should age dictate ability to go out and enjoy one’s self? It shouldn’t. And lately, I’ve been taking steps to separate my age from my play. Just today I spent a good chunk of time blowing bubbles, coloring on the front walkway, and hula hooping with the kids. The weather was far too beautiful to ignore, and the kids are growing up way too fast. To be honest, health is also fairly fleeting, so why waste time sitting around letting old age set in? Life is meant to be lived. I find myself surviving too much instead of living. I meditated a bit upon the floating bubbles that shimmered in the sunshine, contemplating life and my direction — and it was pretty relaxing, actually. I highly recommend spending an afternoon blowing bubbles just for the fun of it. Your whole perspective on life gets a little nip-tuck. I can’t quite advocate for taking up skate boarding in your late 20s, but you never know.
Playing helps me uphold my integrity, which is a very strong theme for me this year. In order to thrive, I must cultivate my life with integrity. I need to be authentic with myself. I need to embrace my desires to frolic in the sunshine, to embrace my need to enjoy the fleeting moments of youth before life pass me by. I cannot be anyone else but myself, and myself wants to play.
