I am doing a series of training this week in the hall of a beautiful new church. The woman from the church got up yesterday and welcomed the group there for the series of workshops. She went through the typical things about washrooms, smoking and cell phones. Then she told people that, as it was a sunny day, they may want to walk through the land attached to the Church. She mentioned that their neighbour had an Alsatian dog who had it's own philosophy: If it moves, it plays.
Thinking about that on the way home, I said to Joe, 'That's a pretty good philosophy to have.'
We acknowledged that now matter how hard we try, we keep slipping back into moving to work, moving to do functional things, moving to simply get through the endless, endless, endless tasks that come with being adults, being employed ... and doing all this while feeling tired almost all of the time. It must be true of everyone else too because I keep getting the answer 'Tired but good' as an answer when I ask people how they are.
As we discussed this we thought about how good it was to have kids in our lives, but then we realized that playing with kids isn't actually playing. There's always an aspect of care, and caution and supervison in that play, we are 'doing' something and that something is 'playing with the kids.' While we love it, I'm not sure that it actually fully would be defined as play.
We used to be good at play.
Probably back a few years ago.
When we were younger.
When laughing came easier and was a much more frequent visitor.
After we go home last night, Joe was unpacking the car - he'd bought a few things for his balcony garden, which now has very healthy tomato plants and raspberry plants too. I agreed to nip over to the store.That power chair makes it possible for me to fully participate in getting things done. So I headed out and picked up what we needed, chatted to clerks I new, said hello the the security guard who we like cause she's friendly and funny.
On the way home I saw a woman with a disability sitting at a coffee shop patio on the street, tucked back in the shade, sipping coffee and reading a book. Is this play? I wondered.
Then I realized that I don't know anymore what 'play' is and how 60 year old's, one in a wheelchair, play!! I need help. Joe and I are looking at taking a few days off ... having a stay home vacation ... what would you all do with that time that's PLAY. I want to be able to say, I move, I play ... but I now know I've been so focused on other things that I'm not even sure what comprises 'play'.
Tell me what 'play' is to you ...