Pat Taub
I consider myself lucky because I got the play gene.
While my family provided me with enough drama to propel me into therapy for decades, they also gave me a delight in play, in whimsy and in just being silly. We loved playing practical jokes. A box of rubber chocolates lay in wait for unsuspecting guests: a whoopie cushion could be placed under your seat at any moment; we never tired of short sheeting our siblings’ beds
Practical jokes similar to what my family favored
Play isn’t just frivolous. It can be healing when expressed good naturedly to diffuse stressful situations. Rather than casting blame, the objective is to take the incident to an absurd level, where both parties can see the humor, laugh, and reunite.
In everyday encounters, playful comments and behavior enhance connections among friends, spreading joy. But sometimes, play is nothing more than wanting to have fun.
One Thanksgiving when my young grands were visiting, I was tired and crabby from my exhaustive preparations. I spontaneously retrieved three sets of lit headgear, handed both Jane and Max one, put on one myself, and led the way. We raced out the door, yelping for joy, as we ran around the block. We laughed and laughed. My stress level plummeted.
The Thanksgiving my grands and I wore silly headgear and ran around the block
To add more play to your life, reject the notion that play is a waste of time or that you’ll look silly. You probably will look silly; that goes with the territory because play is all about being spontaneous and carefree.
For inspiration, look to the Dalai Lama, who champions “playful humor,” calling himself a “professional laugher.” He once delivered an entire lecture with a tissue on his head to loosen up his audience. His Holiness is fond of saying, “humor softens the heart.”
The Dalai Lama in a playful mood, delivering a lecture with a tissue on his head
I’m reminded of the writer Norman Cousins, who wrote about the curative powers of humor.
Cousins was hospitalized and seriously ill, fighting to survive. He persuaded the hospital staff to set up his room with Marx Brothers movies—this was 1986, before streaming was invented. He watched the Marx Brothers around the clock, laughing up a storm. As his health improved, Cousins concluded, “Laughter is the best medicine.”
The Marx Brothers in their familiar zany mode
A hobby or new interest with a playful quality has been known to conquer depression. Martha Rice wrote a WOW guest blog, describing how learning to play the ukulele, was key to overcoming her depressed state.
Laughter Yoga is gaining in popularity for its ability to enhance well-being.
It’s based on the premise that one can laugh away stress. It combines laughing exercises with yoga breathing techniques. I followed a 5-minute YouTube video presentation where the instructor, alone in a bare studio, flayed her arms around and laughed like crazy. I tried to laugh with her, but it felt forced. I’m assuming it’s different in a class where everyone around you is laughing.
A Laughter Yoga Session
When I have trouble falling asleep, I often read humor to relax.
I reach for Fierce Pajamas: An Anthology of Humor Writing from the New Yorker Humor Anthology, or a humorist like, Miranda July. A favorite July story is “The Swim Team,” featuring Mona, a lonely young woman who offers swimming lessons to three elderly neighbors. The lessons take place on Mona’s kitchen floor, where, under her whimsical instructions, three large bowls become a swimming pool. The seniors bond and Mona feels less lonely. The triumph of play!
The cartoonist, Lynda Barry, maintains that most adults suffer from “play amnesia.”
To reawaken your play brain, hang with play experts, like your grands, young kids in the neighborhood, or with artist pals. Kids and artists inhabit the world of imagination, where play is central. Follow their lead to escape your rational mind for the magical world of play, where silly smiles and laughs are in abundance.
Lynda Barry learning from watching kids at play
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