Play more

Risk. That's something that you don't see enough of. Fear squashes risk, or the ability to do take that step, that leap beyond your comfort zone. I've been thinking a lot lately about why we are so afraid. About how we create those zones. And then, as with most ideas, brilliant or not, it came to me in moment - it's the absence of play. 

As a child there are no barriers, no moral or social qualms that stop us. Walking down the street, a child who spies an awesome tree will climb it. Doesn't matter if people are oddly peering at them or if their parents, in fear for the child's life, are yelling at them to come down. It's a tree. It's cool. Climb it. Straight forward. When we get to adulthood that all changes. When I walk down the street and see an imminently climbable tree my first thought is, tree that I would like to climb. But then the clutter arrives, none of it, by the way, having to do with physical fear. First there is the worry that others walking down the street, or passers by in cars will think that I am crazy or deranged. Then the thought comes, well, I could combat that by seeming to be in pursuit of a cat caught in high branches (though this does not hold up for those close to me who can clearly see that no cat is present). Then I worry about the owner of the tree, which in and of itself is a bizarre concept - I mean, come on, it's a tree. But I worry that they will suddenly appear on the scene angry either because they are worried about their insurance or because they think that I might damage a branch or two in my ascent. By the time I have run through all of these scenarios the tree suddenly doesn't seem as freeing as it did a moment before. 

This is a shame and speaks to a larger issue. The death of play. Perhaps this issue is so prescient for me because for one wonderful, unforgettable year, between my 20th and 21st birthday all of the qualms, social impediments, and worries that I had acquired over my life until that time disappeared. And I owe it to one person who in this regard should be a role model to all of us. My friend Peter Parker (well, actually Brodhead, but Parker was a more suited name which he adopted for himself). He showed me what it was like to be a kid again. To go out and climb irregardless of rules, laws, the perceptions of others. They meant nothing to him. And in his presence I acquired that, not irreverence, for that has a negative connotation, but freedom. We climbed buildings, billboards, the Philadelphia Art Museum, playground structures (though in a more advanced way than most children). We rode our bikes around the city like kids biking around their neighborhoods. We danced at clubs like no one was watching or judging. It was the most freeing, exhilarating year of my life, and I miss it. I have found, subsequent to our knowing of each other, that I have a difficult time replicating that nonchalant heir on my own. 

Over the years that have followed I have tried to pinpoint what it was, what made us (and still does, I suspect, him) so free. So unperterbed by society. What it was that we were doing, exactly. And then, as I said, it hit me. We were playing. We were re-experiencing what it was to be children. To see something big and want to surmount it. This playfulness fed into other aspects of my life, making every moment more enjoyable and increasing my creativity. It changed the whole landscape of the world. Made everything amazing. The world was once again meant to be interacted with fully, not just passed by or observed. It was an interactive landscape and we were interacting. 

When you create a society so full of rules, legal, social, cultural, that you bind the creativity of its citizens you do them a great disservice. I do not mean to imply anarchy by any measure. All I mean is that we've boxed ourselves in. We've pushed ourselves to be too adult. To stiff. Yes, there are more strains and responsibilities as one gets older, but doesn't that just mean we need to play more, to counterbalance all of it, all the stress, the unhappiness with work? Indeed, there would be less unhappiness with work if there was more play going on there. It wouldn't even be a complete loss for the company (as some, fairly decent companies like Google have learned). Play spawns creativity. And how could it not? Put people on bean bags in a colorful space with toys, balls to squeeze, a trampoline to jump on, big sheets of paper to draw on and lots of markers and how can something creative not come of it? If I may say the worst design of all time if the cubicle. Not only does it shut individuals off from the world which would and should inspire them, but it shuts them off from other individuals. And I think we all know by now, the greatest creativity occurs when people come together. It may be chaotic, but as Bruce Moa says in his manifesto (and by the way if you haven't read it, please do), "Collaborate. The space between people working together is filled with conflict, friction, strife, exhilaration, delight, and vast creative potential." In that space so much can occur, and play is best done with others. Have fun in all moments, and, again, as Bruce Moa (a genius in his own right) says, "Laugh. People visiting the studio often comment on how much we laugh. Since I've become aware of this, I use it as a barometer of how comfortably we are expressing ourselves."  Fun breeds results.

So I suppose that the point of all of this for those of you still reading is that we need to make a concerted effort (though don't strain yourself too much for that would defeat the point) to play more. To laugh more. To climb more trees despite the opinions of those on the periphery.