PLAY (INSPIRED BY A CALL WITH GAV)
In the fabric of my youth, one resounding question echoed: “Can I play outside?” Those were joyful days of boundless exploration, where even the most inconspicuous treasures—a backyard stick or drifting leaves—beckoned with the promise of adventure.
Nestled within a rural community, I was blessed by the nurturing embrace of a close-knit group. Trust flourished, birthing a band of what could aptly be described as “wild” or even “feral” children, meandering through woods, mud, grass, and oceans. Beneath starlit skies, we shared fireside tales woven together by shared experiences, overseen by watchful guardians who, in our youthful exuberance, formed a loving community around us, seeing reflections of their own bygone days of play.
Amidst the peak of my playful escapades, a tiny island, untouched by the march of time, became a cherished refuge. There, my family and I embarked on regular pilgrimages, camping, fishing, and reveling in the untamed splendor of nature. A singular memory remains etched in my mind: a trek with my father to the island’s highest point, where he ceremoniously crowned me “protector” of its realm.
Yet, as the years unfolded, the vibrant hues of play began to fade. Our adult responsibilities encroached, schooling tempered our spirits, and societal norms nudged us toward the path of conformity. The symbolic crown of childhood gradually yielded to the weight of societal expectations, its once-potent magic waning in the face of growing obligations and social pressures.
Transitioning from the unencumbered joys of youth to the roles of worker and consumer, we found ourselves ensnared by the trappings of a mechanised society. Innocent delight gave way to the relentless encumbrance of success and status. We burdened ourselves with quantifiable tasks, transforming play into toil, and sacrificing the innocent wonder of fantasy and imagination upon the altar of productivity. We turned play into work, giving ourselves mountains to climb, goals to score, tasks to tick, rules to follow, equipment to buy and questions to not ask.
But amidst the noise of adulthood, the enduring spirit of play endured—a gentle refrain in life’s grand orchestra. It nestled within the recesses of our souls, a silent testament to the enduring magic of childhood.
Let us, then, return to the sun-drenched meadows of our youth, where laughter flowed freely and creativity knew no bounds. In the unbridled whimsy of childhood play, we unearth not only fleeting moments of joy but also a pathway to our truest selves—a sanctum where dreams flourish.
In heeding the siren call of nostalgia, we can rediscover the innocence and wonder that lies dormant within us. In the embrace of play, we uncover echoes of the past and the very essence of our being—a melody as timeless as the rustle of leaves and the simple joy of a stick in the yard. Armed with these rediscovered tools, we can reclaim our narrative from the clutches of consumerism and embrace our rightful place as citizens and stewards of the natural world.
Rekindle the flame of play and innocence; embrace the simple pleasures that truly nourish our souls. Let us give ourselves permission to ask, “Can I play outside?” and answer with a resounding Yes—the kind of confident, curious Yes that our inner child knows so well! And when we do, let us play as citizens, not consumers.
