Welcome to the 6th gift in Resiliency Workshop
No. 6 Play Daily
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Begin Again... to Play.
This sixth of eight gifts in the Resiliency Workshop is about the power of play.
Personally, I need this one most. On occasion, I regress on this gift and fall back into the feeling that I am behind– the bane of a reformed work-a-holic. Then I remember a divinely ordered Universe of love... and I pause. My inner child (subconscious, self, or whatever name seems fitting for you) wisely is needing a break... and a short refreshing recess!
Go to ground... a playground... in your backyard or in your mind. It is rejuvenating and once our inner child knows we are listening, we can get some real work done.
That is the way it works for me. What about you?
Do not discount the magnificent power of the small, just because you have only two or three minutes. No matter what stressors in front of you, incrementally, you will return to your center by prioritizing play... and that, my friend, makes it a better day.
Are you with me? Let's play a little...
Share how it's going. I would like to hear.
Playfully,
[email protected]
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Video: What you can expect |
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This micro-video will walk you through.
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Begin Again to play. It just might rock your world (back to the center of our lovely enoughness), as it has mine. It's odd, really that I forget to play. I sit at my desk, doing things that I think matter, or to simply pay the bills and I forget |
that there is a greater order to a friendly Universe... a divine order. Putting play ahead of, or at least right up there with, the necessities of paying bills, feeding our loved ones, opens us up to get a better glimpse of that Universal smile within.
Joy in the middle of the vicssitudes, the inconvenient and the uncertain is a miracle... a daily miracle. I am breathing; I have (truly) more than enough to survive and thrive, especially when I play for the higher stakes of clarity, and joy... not just the rent.
Celebrate. Use it as inspiration.
In a recent article by Maggie Whitehouse, she speaks to the relevance of celebration (and tithing...) – in three parts according to priority.
Joy in the middle of the vicssitudes, the inconvenient and the uncertain is a miracle... a daily miracle. I am breathing; I have (truly) more than enough to survive and thrive, especially when I play for the higher stakes of clarity, and joy... not just the rent.
Celebrate. Use it as inspiration.
In a recent article by Maggie Whitehouse, she speaks to the relevance of celebration (and tithing...) – in three parts according to priority.
"Once I"d examined all the Bible texts concerning tithing in detail, I used my training in Judaic mysticism to work out how the teaching might be updated and made relevant to modern times. I came to three conclusions:
We are to give our attention to God first, and to our own delight and pleasure second. Only then are we to take care of others. That was pretty revolutionary for someone trained always to put others first."
– Rev. Maggie Whitehouse, The Sacred Truth about Tithing, Unity Magazine July/Aug 2023
We are not trained to "love your neighbor as yourself..." (i.e. equally.)
Self-sustaining care values play, inspiration and celebration but this talented writer, minister and theologian says to put them second only to Spirit.
The order is what matters. We are prioritizing, by our actions, what we value and want MORE of in our lives.
Our actions create our world: daily "for our daily bread."
Playtime is productive, too...
“Downtime replenishes the brain’s stores of attention and motivation, encourages productivity and creativity, and is essential to both achieve our highest levels of performance and simply form stable memories in everyday life … moments of respite may even be necessary to keep one’s moral compass in working order and maintain a sense of self.”
- Ferris Jabr Scientific American, Why your Brain Needs More Downtime
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Listen to the Audio of the chapter...
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Gift No. 6 - Play Daily
Playing right where I am is the long game–especially in the leftover moments.
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Process: What's on your play list? |
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Process: each day this week, (... or at least 3x) make time to spend 5 to 30 minutes solely focused on having fun.
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Do this & journal about it.
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Play Daily Process
This micro-video will guide you... to considering fun, no matter where you are or what is in front of you. |
Maybe you only have time to sneak a funny puppy (or kitten) video on your phone, or you might take a 10 minute walk around the block with an Audible/audio book playing in your ear, (Field Guide's Audible book is here...) or your favorite music playlist that makes YOUR heart sing.
Keep a Mandala Coloring Book in your desk for a 3 minute Diva Breathe breathing break or an inspirational daily word book or booklet that offers an uplifting thought. Get a more balanced now. Tomorrow maybe get a dancing lesson? or a yoga class?
What does play look like for you? Flow with it...
When you were eight, your favorite thing might have been the merry-go-round. What is it now? When was the last time you lost track of time to the extent that you were completely (and happily) absorbed in the activity? This is a “flow” state which has seemingly effortless concentration, and is a pleasure to do.
If you are stumped, ask your dog or cat. They talk. Imagine what ideas they might have?
The simple enjoyment of what you're doing is a sign; having time flow by may be a clue as to one of your sweet spots for play...
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Questions to write about ...because your experience matters. |
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Write in a journal you already have or make this DIY resiliency journal to consider your experiences more thoroughly. Click Icon to right
to download the journal pages for this gift. |
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1. What was one thing you did this week that was truly fun?
If nothing comes to mind, what would have been fun?
2. What was the most fun you ever had? What were you doing? Who were you with?
3. What would fun look like now? What lightens your heart and lifts your spirit? When did you last lose track of time?
If nothing comes to mind, what would have been fun?
2. What was the most fun you ever had? What were you doing? Who were you with?
3. What would fun look like now? What lightens your heart and lifts your spirit? When did you last lose track of time?
4. If you were to play daily, what would that look like? Where are there already opportunities for play in your day? Where can you create more?
5. Name the one thing you know would bring a smile to your face. Now go do it!
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Play Daily - GIFT No. 6
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My mother was smart enough to count her blessings, but she was always eager for more and better. To her credit, she believed in integral play, where she seriously applied herself. LIKE MOST CAREGIVERS, MY MOTHER WAS ACTUALLY QUITE ISOLATED in her heyday. The professional women my mother met were rare and seen as competition. Ladies didn’t mentor each other in her generation but she had her band of compatriots. Betty never relied on them (or her husbands). They were for companionship and fun. They were all playful in different ways. |
ONE OF BETTY’S COHORTS WAS A TRUSTED ALLY AND A CHARACTER— Peggy was tall, buxom, and platinum-haired; she would have been cast first as the heart of gold who owned the saloon in a classic Old West shoot-‘em-up episode. (She reminded me of the pioneer stories of my great-grandmother Zilpha.) There was also Betty’s playgirl chum, Caroline, many years younger but the perfect pal with whom to drink, prowl, and hide a couple of decades.
I LOVED THEM BOTH, BUT THE FRIEND WHO HAD THE MOST influence on me was a Cornell-trained architect a decade older than Betty. Tot was a dignified Eleanor Roosevelt look-alike. In her lifetime, she grew to resemble the bulldogs who were her constant companions. She grew a studio around a magnificent elm. In a Frank Lloyd Wrightian approach, she enclosed her brick patio and made a drafting studio. It was stunning to walk inside and feel as if you were outside with the trunk of that elm rising through the roof. It was a rooted, playful, creative chaos of blueprints, books, and English Bulldogs.
MY FIRST ASSOCIATED MEMORY OF HER WAS THE IMMERSIVE experience of a multi-bulldog welcome, which was unforgettable for its drool-baptizing, robust, grunting enthusiasms. Her dogs were always named Butch, Maggie, or perhaps a Beauregard. Tot got me. She was the reason I found landscape architecture—a career, which was (and is still on occasion) a pretty perfect fit for me.
BETTY PLAYED IN MORE TRADITIONAL WAYS. “WE WORKED LIKE DOGS DURING TAX SEASON, INCLUDING PITTI- Sing, the cat. We had fun, too.” Cindy said this, one of Betty’s young office mates, on a visit from Tulsa.
PITTI-SING, BEING A BURMESE (AND THEREFORE PART HUMAN AND part monkey), came to the office with Betty each day in their classic gold 280SL Mercedes coupe. Betty barely had to train her; she opened her front door and then the car’s door. The cat simply walked out and hopped in to make herself comfortable for the ride to work. They labored long hours from January to Tax Day. At some point in early evening, either Pitti-Sing would get restless and sit on top of the papers that Betty was trying to finish, or she herself would look up and realize the time. Then someone would call out to the others working in the office.
“DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE USED TO YELL WHEN WE HAD enough?” Leanne asked, the other young office mate of Betty’s.
“BRING OUT THE BOX!” WAS MY MOTHER’S QUICK RESPONSE. (THAT would be the gallon box of white wine with a spigot, kept in the fridge...)
MY MOTHER KNEW THAT PLAY DAILY WAS THE LONG GAME. MY older brother was solidly in this camp: all play, all the time, or so it seemed to me. My mother and he shared that playfulness. She knew how to work hard. She shouldered responsibilities but did not omit the exotic vacations.
HOWEVER, MY ABILITY TO PLAY IN THE TRENCHES (...ANYWHERE BUT especially in caregiving) was fledgling to say the least. Early on, I reached for a dramatic, big playful change—I did Argentinean tango. It was a skill for which I had to take lessons to learn. It required lots of practice, fun black, sexy clothes and late nights out with new tango-dancing girl friends. It was like learning a new language. The sad and soulful music of the Argentinean bandoneon was the soundtrack to my first six years of caregiving.
I LOVED THEM BOTH, BUT THE FRIEND WHO HAD THE MOST influence on me was a Cornell-trained architect a decade older than Betty. Tot was a dignified Eleanor Roosevelt look-alike. In her lifetime, she grew to resemble the bulldogs who were her constant companions. She grew a studio around a magnificent elm. In a Frank Lloyd Wrightian approach, she enclosed her brick patio and made a drafting studio. It was stunning to walk inside and feel as if you were outside with the trunk of that elm rising through the roof. It was a rooted, playful, creative chaos of blueprints, books, and English Bulldogs.
MY FIRST ASSOCIATED MEMORY OF HER WAS THE IMMERSIVE experience of a multi-bulldog welcome, which was unforgettable for its drool-baptizing, robust, grunting enthusiasms. Her dogs were always named Butch, Maggie, or perhaps a Beauregard. Tot got me. She was the reason I found landscape architecture—a career, which was (and is still on occasion) a pretty perfect fit for me.
BETTY PLAYED IN MORE TRADITIONAL WAYS. “WE WORKED LIKE DOGS DURING TAX SEASON, INCLUDING PITTI- Sing, the cat. We had fun, too.” Cindy said this, one of Betty’s young office mates, on a visit from Tulsa.
PITTI-SING, BEING A BURMESE (AND THEREFORE PART HUMAN AND part monkey), came to the office with Betty each day in their classic gold 280SL Mercedes coupe. Betty barely had to train her; she opened her front door and then the car’s door. The cat simply walked out and hopped in to make herself comfortable for the ride to work. They labored long hours from January to Tax Day. At some point in early evening, either Pitti-Sing would get restless and sit on top of the papers that Betty was trying to finish, or she herself would look up and realize the time. Then someone would call out to the others working in the office.
“DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE USED TO YELL WHEN WE HAD enough?” Leanne asked, the other young office mate of Betty’s.
“BRING OUT THE BOX!” WAS MY MOTHER’S QUICK RESPONSE. (THAT would be the gallon box of white wine with a spigot, kept in the fridge...)
MY MOTHER KNEW THAT PLAY DAILY WAS THE LONG GAME. MY older brother was solidly in this camp: all play, all the time, or so it seemed to me. My mother and he shared that playfulness. She knew how to work hard. She shouldered responsibilities but did not omit the exotic vacations.
HOWEVER, MY ABILITY TO PLAY IN THE TRENCHES (...ANYWHERE BUT especially in caregiving) was fledgling to say the least. Early on, I reached for a dramatic, big playful change—I did Argentinean tango. It was a skill for which I had to take lessons to learn. It required lots of practice, fun black, sexy clothes and late nights out with new tango-dancing girl friends. It was like learning a new language. The sad and soulful music of the Argentinean bandoneon was the soundtrack to my first six years of caregiving.
WHY DID I RELAPSE INTO WORKAHOLISM? MY OPPORTUNITIES FOR social interactions got smaller with caregiving, and tango didn’t fit the slots. I lost the ability to make better decisions. When you’re stuck, it is easy to forget how healing it is to take frequent small social breaks. When I fell ill from the post-traumatic stress of caregiving, and had to get Betty better care in assisted living, I began to stress out in different ways. Instead of focusing on what I could do something about, I saw only Betty’s demise creeping up on me, as my bank account edged down.
IN RETROSPECT, ME PLAYING WAS ABOUT AS LIKELY AS A DEER-IN- the-headlights completing a math problem—not gonna happen.
IN RETROSPECT, ME PLAYING WAS ABOUT AS LIKELY AS A DEER-IN- the-headlights completing a math problem—not gonna happen.
Play Daily
Begin Again as well as the Field Guide. Available for purchase from Amazon, Apple and IngramSpark.
CAREGIVER STRESS (AND ITS ISOLATION) IS POISON. PLAY DAILY IS the antidote.
Betty’s capacity for all things playful was the secret sauce for her long run—our Secretariat race. Finding that lighter moment with friends accessed the good life--wherever and whenever she was. She used her time well—moment to moment. She did what she could with what she found—daily. She put little off.
PLAYING IS RESPITE AND RECHARGE.
From the perspective of my own (distant) future hospice bed, all work and too little play looks lame. Take a break—even a small one. Supercharge this remedy with friends. Ask them over, telling them to bring a meal (...and a bottle of wine if that works for you).
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I LIVED IN A NO-PLAY ZONE MOST OF MY ADULT LIFE.
It’s a defensive position that did not move me forward enough for the toll it took so when I became a caregiver, it was a predetermined downward spiral. Deferring gratification in sprints is part of the entrepreneurial dream (which I get) but at some point in the iron-man/woman marathon you gotta call it and let it go. Play Daily is part of the healthy caregiving training regime.
PLAYING RIGHT WHERE I AM IS THE LONG GAME--ESPECIALLY IN THE leftover moments.
Integral play is the (new) common sense for uncertain times. It takes faith and bravery to play, trusting that it will all work out. Betty and I found sweetness in the valleys and the vacations. It is the worthiest of efforts to find fun in the middle of the inappropriate, especially, and before it is too late.
Betty’s capacity for all things playful was the secret sauce for her long run—our Secretariat race. Finding that lighter moment with friends accessed the good life--wherever and whenever she was. She used her time well—moment to moment. She did what she could with what she found—daily. She put little off.
PLAYING IS RESPITE AND RECHARGE.
From the perspective of my own (distant) future hospice bed, all work and too little play looks lame. Take a break—even a small one. Supercharge this remedy with friends. Ask them over, telling them to bring a meal (...and a bottle of wine if that works for you).
• • •
I LIVED IN A NO-PLAY ZONE MOST OF MY ADULT LIFE.
It’s a defensive position that did not move me forward enough for the toll it took so when I became a caregiver, it was a predetermined downward spiral. Deferring gratification in sprints is part of the entrepreneurial dream (which I get) but at some point in the iron-man/woman marathon you gotta call it and let it go. Play Daily is part of the healthy caregiving training regime.
PLAYING RIGHT WHERE I AM IS THE LONG GAME--ESPECIALLY IN THE leftover moments.
Integral play is the (new) common sense for uncertain times. It takes faith and bravery to play, trusting that it will all work out. Betty and I found sweetness in the valleys and the vacations. It is the worthiest of efforts to find fun in the middle of the inappropriate, especially, and before it is too late.
WONDER & Play - a 15 Minute Sound Meditation
More sound meditations found at YouTube/@shelter-in-grace
Sustainable Caregiving in sweet small steps...and two books:
"I read it all night. It was funny and useful." - A.W.
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TWO BOOKs AND AUDIBLE Recordings:
BEGIN AGAIN has the first 8 gifts... The Field Guide has ALL the gifts...
Both are about caregiving as a circle of care & that includes you.
© COPYRIGHT 2017-2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
PRIVACY POLICY
BEGIN AGAIN has the first 8 gifts... The Field Guide has ALL the gifts...
Both are about caregiving as a circle of care & that includes you.
© COPYRIGHT 2017-2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
PRIVACY POLICY