Let's Go Play

It doesn't take too long when you look into the lives of infamous or famous individuals before “stories” emerge with tales of sacrifice and challenge. There are stories of actors struggles to make it onto Broadway, politicians who finally win their campaign for office and writers that finally get published.

I would like to suggest that the true essence of every individual's story is not found in the remembrance of their “glory days” or in the cumulative fruit of their labor. The most poignant stories come from an individual's daily execution and pursuit of their hopes, skills and dreams. So much of our life’s value is based upon the bottom line that often we miss the point of the creative act altogether.

The joy and purpose of creating something is not in accessing the material value of a created work; but in the act of creating and expressing a thought or idea - even if no one ever sees the creation. I feel our society can either overstimulate the ego of the creative individual by funneling their efforts into profit in lieu of purpose. Because our society is more interested in the marketability of what is created opposed to the act of creating; critics often trample the enthusiasm and efforts of the creative individual. Criticism often stalls and often stops the creative efforts of many individuals, because they are told it is foolish to work on something that holds no material value. When you apply this idea to anyone’s life and work ethic, how much of our motivation is based upon material reward and the expectations of others?

While critics and society do play a part in creative effort, the final responsibility and motivation falls upon the individual who desires to create. In her book, “A Circle of Quiet”, Madeleine L'Engle says that true creativity occurs when the individual acts outside self and selfconsciousness and wholly concentrates on the act of creating and fully participates in the act by taking an investigative and childlike approach to creating.

The key to understanding and approaching any creative project begins when we look at it through the eyes of a child. A child doesn’t consider the value of a sandcastle before he builds it, or wonder if a song makes sense before he sings it; the child builds his castle because he wants to make it, and he makes up a songs because he wants to sing it. Many people are paralyzed to create anything simply because they‘ve forgotten how to play.

As a child, I remember how I could escape my home, family and even myself when I would play with my crayons, Barbies and a tape recorder. Once when I was in Kindergarten, I remember spending an entire Sunday afternoon playing with the hair of one particular doll. She had a hair extension that made it easy to create unending options for fabulous hairdos. I gave her pigtails first because that is what I wore, and then I took that out. I tied it like a hair band so she looked like Alice in Wonderland. Then I decided to do something with Barbie hair that had never been done before. I was going to create something new. I twisted and tied her hair this way and that. I teased, fluffed and tucked her hair into the most extravagant “up do” that my six year old mind could muster. My plain blond Barbie had been transformed into the most elegant doll on the face of the planet... at least to me.

There was no way that I could let the rest of the people in my world live out the day without seeing my wonderful creation. My sister thought it was neat, my brother just grunted at me, my Dad said it was nice, but my Mom gave me a great idea. She told me that if I was very careful, I could take my doll to school for show-and-tell on Monday. I was so excited. My Mom had never let me take a Barbie to school before. I must have done something really amazing with doll hair for my Mom to let me do this. So I packed her in a soft hand towel, wrapped her in something to keep her from getting wet and put her safely in my bag for school. Before I left for school the next morning, my Mom told me something very wise. “Keep your doll in your bag until you get to school and it’s time for show and tell. You don’t want anything to happen to her hair.”

Walking with a hop in my step and swinging my blue bag with my name on it, I proudly climbed aboard my bright yellow bus with a huge smile. I remember thinking that day was going to be great.

It was great. I told my friends what was in my bag. I told them that they would have to wait to show and tell and that it was going to knock their socks off!

J-- was sitting in front of me and she had been listening to my conversation with great interest. She was in first grade and usually was rather nasty to everyone, especially to little kindergarten girls with long brown pigtails. Today for some reason, she thought I was really cool. I was rather impressed. If this was what hairstyling skills can do for a person, I was gonna be set for life.

Things were going great, until J-- asked to see my doll. If I said yes, she might be nice to me. If I said no, she probably would pull my pigtails. I took a chance. I took my doll out of my bag, out of my water tight wrap, and out of the dishtowel. J-- seemed somewhat impressed and smiled as she asked to “hold” my doll. I had already blown off my Mom’s advice not to show the doll and that was risky enough. Now I was in an unexpected, insecure situation. What to do.

As I pondered what to do, J-- yanked the doll from my hands, ripped the fluffy wig off of her head and screamed, “ This is what I think your stupid doll!”. As she stomped the hair extension under her stinky, untied sneaker and into the tracks of the sticky, muddy floor of Bus number #5, I was dazed, angry, and shocked.

I was somehow able to get my doll out of her rough, clenched hands and pick up the soggy wig before she did any permanent damage. I held my tongue, at least for the last four minutes of the bus ride. But when I got to school and saw my teacher, my tears began to fall as I retold the horrible story. I don’t remember what happened to my doll or what happened to J--. I did remember that even if you make something you think is great, someone else may still hate it.

In the passing of time, I realize the best lesson to remember from this nasty little story should be that my focus shouldn't’t have been on what my family, teacher or even what J-- thought of me or my doll. My focus got off track when I became selfconscious about what I had created. In the end, I didn't’t stop playing with my doll’s hair. I did stop looking to the critics for the value in what I created and I kept on playing.

The act of creating can be art. By using words, numbers, colors and actions; lives can be encouraged, dreams can be realized, and the imagination can be freed to go and play - all for the sake of playing. The act of creating can be like prayer. When you pray you speak what is on your heart and mind. You focus all your attention, concentration, and hope into words free of pride and criticism - all for the sake of a prayer. Creating can be like loving someone. You support the person you love with understanding, loyalty, and hope; giving of yourself because you can’t help but to give - all for the sake of love.

Living a life that allows the freedom of creative thought provides every human with the ability to be and become their true ontological self. People can pursue and develop gifts that would have been dismissed or discarded, if the motivation is to enjoy the process of play. Creativity enables every persons’ life story to be shared without needing to be the center of the world it is shared with.

So let the musician play, even if there is no audience. Let the writer write, even if there is no publisher waiting in the wings.

Take out your dolls and try to create a new hairdo. Don’t be afraid to dance at your next wedding reception. Open your box of colors. Look at the names on the crayon wrappers and smell the pages of your coloring books. Let creativity free you to create an amazing life, not just amazing things. Create a life full of Barbie dolls, art, wedding polkas, prayer, love and crayon colored pictures on your refrigerator... all for the sake of playing.