Somewhere along the way, we were told that play was for kids. That being serious equals success. That structure, discipline, and “doing it right” matter more than spontaneity.
But the truth? Play is not a luxury. It’s a lifeline. It’s how the body remembers joy. How the nervous system exhales. How the soul whispers, “Yes. We’re still alive.”
I learned this the hard way — by noticing how stiff, tense, and disconnected life felt when I ignored it. And then I started deliberately bringing play back in.
One morning in Portugal, for example, the sun was blazing, the ducks were wandering around the garden, and my sister was firing up a barbecue. I decided to take off my shoes, roll in the grass, and practice hooping — in the middle of breakfast prep. My little dance made her laugh, the ducks waddled closer, and somehow, I felt freer than I had in weeks.
On another day, I tried accents in hilariously bad Portuguese while cooking figs straight off the tree, making up little songs with each stir of the pan. In Japan, I rolled on the floor just to stretch my body after a long hike, laughing at myself while strangers passed by.
These little moments — rolling, hooping, dancing, making silly sounds — are how magic sneaks in. That’s when the best ideas come, when I feel most connected to myself, when I remember that life is not just about checking boxes or being productive. Play reconnects us — to our bodies, to our inner child, to our creativity, to each other.
So here’s the truth I’ve learned:
If it’s not fun, I’m not doing it.
And if I have to do it, I’ll find a way to make it playful.
Because the more we play, the more alive we feel. The more creative we become. The more we remember that life isn’t just about surviving — it’s about thriving, laughing, dancing, and delighting in the everyday.
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