A-Playful-Path_DeKoven-web

how cold and wet it would be, you think about your shoes. And when you walk with someone
else, someone who maybe just might not understand how fun you really are, you don’t
think about what kind of game you could play on the way, about where you could run or
hide or what you could climb under or jump over. It’s as if the world has become something
alien to you, and you’ve become someone alienated from it, and there’s no better place for
you to play, but hidden, inside.
So, inside, you’re this wonderfully playful, creative, endlessly delightful person. And outside
you act just like someone who has to tell herself to smile, to laugh, to look at others not as
obstacles, or barriers, or beings to avoid touching. You tell your self that they aren’t at all like
you, they’re not playing inside, not just waiting for someone to say “I found you!”
Me, too. I’m that way, a lot. I get scared. I hide inside. And I’ve spent 45 years exploring
everything I could learn about games and fun and play and playfulness. And after all those
years, like you, I still have to remind my self, over and over, probably just as much as you do,
that I can come out to play.
Believe me, I know we could be having fun, together. We could be having fun of the most
amazing kinds – loving, sensitive, intimate, caring, nurturing, transforming. The same kind
of fun we had when we were kids, only deeper, because now we know more. Because we
know how dangerous it could be, how deeply we could get hurt, and we’d play, anyway.
I know that if we only let our selves out to play we would rediscover our selves and reunite
with the world. If we only remembered to have fun, the whole world would become our
playground. I understand that there are times when, simply because we don’t let our selves
out, we hurt our very own children, our very own lovers, our students, our colleagues, our
pets, the people who love us. Not intentionally. Not maliciously. But simply because we’re
inside, somewhere safe. Not because we want to stay inside. But because we’re afraid to come
out.
It’s not such an easy thing to do, remembering to have fun when and while we can. So I’ve
been practicing. Not so much practicing the remembering to have fun part, because that’s a
little too hard, given the news and the crowds and the world. So, I’ve been practicing playfulness.
A joke here, a bit of playfulness there, a wave, a doodle, a dance. Basically, whenever I
notice an opportunity to do something a little, tiny bit playfully, I take it.
I’ve come to call this my “playful path.” It’s not like one of those paths you read about, like a
spiritual path, or anything to get religious about. It’s more like a way to be on whatever path
you happen to be on at the time: a, you know, playful way. You’re walking down a street. It’s
the same street you’ve walked down before. It’s not like you have to find a different street. But
this time, you walk a little more playfully. You step on cracks. You walk around a tree, twice.
You wave at a bird.
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