“Man is nearly himself when he achieves the seriousness of a child at play.” — Heraclitus, Philosopher
What is it about being serious? Contemporarily speaking, it implies having a kind of straight-laced, conservative, adult-minded point of view — a life ruled by external discipline and guided by the laws and principles laid out by institutions, both old and new. It is an existence we are told is proper; one with the kind of self-righteousness that’s ironically obsessed with security/insecurity, material success and general appearances. Along with that, of course, comes the endorsement of competitiveness, and the judgement and condemnation of everything that might question one’s beliefs. In short, it is a life filled with arrogance and conflict, and an existence infiltrated by stress, anxiety and disappointment. Is it any wonder why so many people helplessly run towards escape/vice or exhibit some form of violence in reaction to such self-imprisonment? And the older you get, the worse it gets. To me, this is the wrong (and harmful) kind of seriousness because it all evolves around the ego. In contrast, the right kind of seriousness is the type of seriousness we see with a child at play.
Good things happen when we play seriously:
Lost in the act: When we play with the attentiveness of a child, we lose ourselves to the craft and by doing so, we become our genuine authentic selves. We flow with the work being driven from the inside rather than by expectations or external circumstances.
Seeking to discover: Wanting to know, wanting to find out precisely because we don’t know, is an act of tremendous yet unself-conscious humility. In that spirit, the child searches beyond typical barriers and scratches everywhere for clues, for answers. And in such quietude of the ego, he empties the cup and can now find or see things otherwise invisible to the hungry mind.
Resourcefullness: Caught often with limited tools and materials, the child turns this limitation to an advantage. In the absence of resources, she becomes resourceful, almost ingeniously so.
“Whom the gods wish to destroy, they give unlimited resources.” — Twyla Tharp, Dancer
Becoming one with the work: Once committed, the child at play becomes the play. He is the character he has created. The world of make believe and reality begin to blur, his heart-mind re-united with the spirit of the universe and all its creative capacities.
A spine develops in the work: With such youthful energy and dreams coming alive, the project develops a spine — the core that holds it all together. A child’s vision becomes a master vision, clear and stabilizing, it grounds the work. Everything done thereafter merely serves that vision.
The work nourishes the artist: The child in deep play is nourished by the deep interaction he has with his craft. He can even forego the need for sleep or food because his soul is being fed. He’s empowered with newfound energy unavailable to those who lack his passion.
The work brings order: Caught in the seriousness of play, the child-artist demands order. She wants her brushes cleaned, her canvases perfect, all her toys in alignment. Creating worlds is very important work!
Skill development: With deep contemplation and concentrated effort, the child doesn’t care how many times he has to do something over to get it right. The practice stemming from all the playing makes him smarter and stronger, building his talent.
“A talent grows by being used, and withers if it is not used.” — May Carton, Poet
The strive for perfection: The child sees the world he envisions in all around perfection and this drives him to turn it into material reality. His actions embody the genuine definition of what it means to express oneself. As writer Susan Sontag noted “the greatest art seems secreted, not constructed.”
The work-play reveals truth: The playwright George Bernard Shaw once said “You use a glass mirror to see your face. You use works of art to see your soul.” Nothing can be further from this truth, making art reveals the artist to himself.
Fear is conquered: In play, we overcome difficulties. Worry, anxiety, or any idea of failure is an obstruction. The child has no use for such abstract concerns. She plows over them, even if she has to break the rules.
“Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.” — Eric Fromm, Psychologist
No compromises: In the aim for perfection — for absolute excellence — the artist-child refuses to compromise. Her vision is everything. When she plays, she demands all conditions to be perfect; Teddy sits here, the teapot has to be centered, no one else is allowed in the tea room except those with official invitations.
Time forgotten: How amazing is it when we’ve forgotten about the time? When a child plays — doing what she loves and loving what she’s doing — she lives in blissful harmony without even thinking about it.
Good rest: Deep, serious play is physically demanding. When we play hard, we use ourselves up in the best possible way. By default, we are rewarded with a clear conscience and uninterrupted rest as the body restores itself naturally. Happy children sleep well.
The attainment of freedom: The child at play is free — free from concerns, free of the past, free of the future. He lives in the now. The wealth he grows is inside him, is him, and is not restricted to the abstract nonsense that adults deem so valuable.
“Wealth is grounded in freedom. Freedom is not found in Wealth.” — Epictetus, Philosopher
