Play
I’ve been thinking all lot about the idea of being lighter in my life…or, as Peter Gray would put it, be more willing to engage in play.
Peter Gray has studied human play and its importance to well-being. Play is a natural part of the lives of many mammals, and humans are no exception. We play, often, to learn. Children learn about relationships and basic life skills through play.
Children seem to do this effortlessly, although, that’s changing, as rates of play have been declining since the 1950’s. And, although much of Peter’s research on play is centered around children, I can’t help but think that adults are also playing less.
Just as children’s “play” activities have become structured and competitive, so have the leisure activities of adults. If you have a hobby you enjoy, there are countless ways to monetize it. If you appreciate certain athletic pursuits, there are tournaments and races and competitions. Although monetizing a hobby or engaging in competition can be rewarding, they can actually decrease the play and joy involved in the process of doing the thing.
After years of working in a stressful career with production goals and narrow success parameters, I’ve found it is difficult to divorce “doing” from “achieving”. For example, if I want to sit down and draw something, it takes effort to resist judging what I’m doing as I’m doing it. For example, I might wonder if it’s good enough to put up on a wall. In contrast, a child, given the same materials and blank page, wouldn’t hesitate to scribble down whatever they fancied.
As I allow myself to write again, to paint again, to create textiles, I face the dragon of the modern production mindset again and again. Oh how lovely it would be to create simply and from curiosity. Re-cultivating that mental attitude hasn’t been as simple as I’ve thought.
Often, when I’m confounded by certain aspects of life, I look for examples of other people who are doing it well. Since I am interested in developing my creative life, I often turn to books or YouTube to gain insight into other people’s processes.
After sifting through the barrage of artists who are mostly interested in selling or teaching others how to sell, I finally found a handful of people who show clear delight in the process of what they are doing, not just the outcomes. For the record, I want all artists to be able to make a good living. The point is, it was difficult to find examples of people who were just being creative in the spirit of play.
These are people who aren’t afraid to try something. They have an idea and see how it goes. More than once, I’ve watched them as they laugh at how something turned out. Or, they paint over what they don’t like. Or, they use the first iteration to inform the next version. Or they put it to the side, work on something else, and come back to the first thing later. Regardless of what they do, you can see the joy of it all. You can see the play.
Up until I found these examples, I had figured that art was rather serious. And perhaps it is in many professional circles. The people that I found, while they are professional in that they produce art in order to make a living, they somehow keep lightness in what they do. It is almost as if, in spite of earning a living with their art, they in no way let it influence their practice of art.
(Here are a few of the artists that I like to watch for this reason: Sandi Hester, Orla Stevens, David Choe )
This brough me back to Peter’s work.
In his substack, he has several articles on amateurs vs. professionals. In one article, he outlines the main differences, which I’ll list here:
1. Professionals do it for a living, amateurs live to do it.
2. Professionals work within boundaries, amateurs wander freely
3. Professionals know, amateurs learn
4. Professionals aim to separate thought and action from emotion, amateurs often do not.
This list, it turns out, explained exactly what I was seeing these working artists do. They perpetually remained in a beginner’s mind, never stopping, always learning. And to do that, they had to love the process of it, they had to live for it. They use their emotive process in their work, even showcasing it.
My inspiration was coming from watching these people “play at” their work, rather than take it so seriously. Play introduced lightness and beauty into the work in a way that could not have occurred if it were serious. Sometimes, the artworks are wild, nonsensical, unhinged. Sometimes things look terrible in the process of creation. But as the playful artist continues, they often break through to create incredible beauty.
As I look back at my career with it’s production and stresses, I now wonder if I could have put aside thoughts about achievement and been a little lighter during the time that I was working. Sure, I still would need to deliver the gold standard of care to my patients, but could I have achieved the same outcome with a more playful process? Moreover, could I have put thoughts of earning far enough out of my mind to allow the process to remain light?
I’m not entirely sure.
But for now, I plan to commit myself to being an amateur, to lightening up, and to the process of play.