Make time to play.

This afternoon, my husband gave in to the kids’ persistent pleading and drove them in the rain to the archery range. They had attended their first official lesson on Thursday, then received their new bows as an early Christmas present yesterday at the archery store, where they stayed for an hour and half practicing their shots, and today, they were itching to get back at it. So off to the range they went.

I stayed home.

Normally, I would have felt so guilty for staying behind rather than going along on what has become a family activity, or I would have let those three sweet little faces with the impossibly big blue eyes convince me to tag along, but I haven’t slept well this week and just didn’t feel like it. So I smiled back at their disappointment and said I wasn’t going this time but couldn’t wait to hear all about it when they returned.

And then I had 90 minutes in a whisper-quiet apartment all by myself as the rain softly drummed against the windows outside. 

I finished a book I’d been trying to read for weeks with hot coffee that had not been warmed repeatedly in the microwave. 

I wrote a blog post sans repetitive requests to watch a movie or eat a snack.

I ate a granola bar, without having to share with three sets of tiny hands.

And I painted. 

I’d had this idea to paint a nativity set out of wooden peg dolls and neutral shades of acrylic paint—something the kids could play with but would blend into our decor and not take up much space—but it’s hard to finish a craft of my own when the kids are around because it always turns into the need for me to facilitate three additional painting projects. And, who am I kidding? Being a perfectionist, crafts aren’t exactly my thing when the kids aren’t around. I usually get so frustrated by my lack of artistic ability that I end up throwing the whole thing out. 

But I had an opportunity here, so while the house was quiet, I sat at our table with my pots of cream, greige, and gold shimmer paints and started swiping the dreamy shades onto the little wooden dolls. 

As those were drying, I found a little box nearby and decided to paint the top to use as a shadow box background for the little wooden people. 

It was therapeutic, relaxing, and completely frivolous. 

It was just what I needed.

I think too often, as an adult and a 1w9 on the Enneagram, I focus relentlessly on productivity and improvement. How can I cross every item off my to-do list in my spiral-bound planner and still have dinner on the table at a reasonable time? Very rarely do I make time to do something frivolous just for the heck of it.

And even more rarely do I bow out of family time to carve out a little for myself.

But, man, how restorative is it to have some alone time now and then? And instead of stressing about how I can absolutely make the most out of the rarity, to choose instead to do something that’s not on the to-do list? 

According to a writer for The New York Times, play offers a number of benefits for adults. In this article written last year, smack dab in the middle of the pandemic, positive play coach Jeff Harry, who works with organizations to incorporate positive psychology into daily routines, says, “One way to think about play is an action you do that brings you a significant amount of joy without offering a specific result.” It’s enjoying an activity simply because it’s enjoyable, not because you expect to accomplish some bigger purpose.

In a world that demands so much from grown-ups, a world that expects us to grow up and act our ages, to get serious and stop fooling around, for cryin’ out loud…sometimes fooling around is just the thing we need. 

And so I wrote a post about a table and painted dolls made from wood, not to get more readers or to start a side hustle or achieve some other, more productive goal, but just because I could. 

Play accesses a softer, lighter, younger side of ourselves that cares less about what other’s think or expect and more about letting our imaginations come to the surface. It’s less about finding a new hobby to spend more money on and find time for and more about tapping into the things we used to enjoy when we were younger. 

I loved to be creative as a kid. I’ve loved writing ever since I learned how to, and art was one of my favorite subjects in school. Sitting down and creating something just for play’s sake is incredibly satisfying (if I throw any expectation for perfection out the window). So why don’t I do it more often? 

If you were given an afternoon to yourself, how would you spend it? What is something you loved to do as a kid? What is one way you could revisit those memories by choosing to engage in play now?