Without rehashing a bunch of the same things from previous posts, I will say this to sum it all up: I spent more time doing things for others than I did for myself. I did play a little, but for the most part, I was three-quarters-time others. After doing that for so long, it is a hard habit to break. I still find myself doing it for the people around me, even months later.
Each time I catch myself being that person, I stop myself. This is where freedom begins. Eventually, I hope to find a better balance between the things that other people need and want me to do and the things that my heart, mind, and soul need and want. After many years of conditioning, that is going to take a lot of time and energy to change. That said, I have already started making some changes in what I am doing for myself, and part of that means making sure there is some time for play, too.
My son asked me, “Are you able to sit still and not do anything without feeling like you need to be doing something?”
I said no.
I guess that probably says something about me.
I frequently find myself asking a series of questions: “Shouldn’t I be doing something else?” “Is this productive?” “Is there something I should be taking care of?” Before I know it, I’ve built a whole flowchart of necessity in my head and convinced myself that whatever I was about to do for myself could wait.
The funny thing is that I seem to be much better at taking care of other people’s needs than I am at allowing myself to have some time that serves absolutely no purpose.
When I was younger, play was easy for me. I was always willing to try new things and be the daredevil. What’s the worst that could happen? I was a cutoff-wearing, Green Machine-wrecking, BMX-riding typical kid. I then turned into a rappelling teenager, a photographer, a technology guy, and eventually a guy who builds strange projects just because I can.
I thought I stopped being that guy.
Maybe I didn’t.
Adulthood didn’t eliminate that character. It just buried him under a bunch of responsibilities. I still am who I am, just with a different set of self-managed responsibilities now.
Maybe that’s part of what I am trying to figure out. I don’t necessarily need to become someone completely different. Maybe I just need to give some of the old parts of myself permission to come back out and play once in a while.
When you’re an adult, there is a lot of pressure to be competent. If you’re going to learn something, you want to learn it correctly. If you’re going to start something, you want to do it well. If you’re going to spend money on equipment, you want to make sure you’re getting the right equipment at a good price.
Play doesn’t require competence. You can suck at something and still enjoy it.
Maybe one of the reasons kids are better at playing than adults is because kids don’t care whether they’re good at it. I know there were plenty of drawings I made as a child that were not very good, but somehow they still ended up on the refrigerator. Nobody cared that they weren’t going to end up in a museum. I made something, I liked it, and that was good enough.
As an adult, I’ve tried drawing again and usually ended up thinking I should probably stick to photography.
Maybe that’s okay, too.
Maybe play isn’t about being good at something. Maybe it is about doing something simply because you enjoy doing it, without asking whether it is productive, necessary, useful, or worth the time.
I’ve spent a lot of years trying to make sure everything and everyone around me was taken care of. I’m still learning how to take care of myself without feeling like I’m neglecting someone else.
And maybe part of taking care of myself is remembering that I don’t always have to accomplish something.
Sometimes I can just play.