The Importance of Play
How Yoga and Dodgeball Changed my Life!
Growing up, the excitement of a game was the pinnacle of childlike wonder. All I remember is joyful, jaw aching laughter. This goes for any game - I could have been playing Mario Kart, Candy Land, Cranium, Soccer or Sorry and there would be no difference. I loved the mental strategy, the teamwork (and equally, the rivalry) and most of all, the fact that none of it mattered. It’s interesting how “play” turned into “competition” the older I got, and suddenly it all mattered, and it seemed to matter a great deal.
I first felt the shift in middle school. I was on two soccer teams and having the time of my life. I was doing cart wheels at practice in between shooting drills, smiling wide and laughing with my diaphragm, thinking it was all still play. I got reprimanded for not taking the game more seriously - was told there was no room for playing around if I wanted to continue playing in high school. Imagine my surprise - wasn’t I here to play around? Wasn’t that the whole point of games? My smile quickly faded and I never did a cartwheel at practice again.
Suddenly, the game I loved turned into fighting for playing time, and fighting for spots on the high school team, amongst the people I was meant to be teammates with. How can you feel comfortable within a team when you are playing against each other and with each other all at once? I played on my high school team for one year before the dread of the internal competition consumed me. The pressure turned my insides acidic and burned away my love of the game. There was no joy left - it was always “perform” and never “play”. I would have done anything to trade the acrid taste in my mouth for the laughter and joy I once had. I quit the team, and said goodbye to a sport I had loved most of my life.
Gratefully, I also had a love of track and field which I continued with after my time playing soccer had ended. I was on the team with my best friends, and we found time for play, including a cart wheel or two. I felt that track, an individualistic team sport, was less of a pressure cooker than soccer. I could beat my own running times or jump higher than I’d ever jumped, and any points I got would go to my team. I didn’t have the same performance anxiety, until college grew closer. Suddenly I was the same middle school kid being reprimanded for having too much fun at soccer practice - I was told to take the sport more seriously if I wanted to continue in college. I just wanted to run and leap and laugh. I wanted to continue track and field for the childlike play time I got to have, but to continue I had to commit. I was suddenly only focused on jumping higher and running faster, skipping the cart wheels in between.
I got onto a college team with incredibly kind coaches that allowed some room for play. I was working hard and my body was exhausted, but I was still having fun - in the beginning, it felt like there was equal play and performance. Unfortunately, the internal competition came back to haunt me. It seemed, nothing good could last forever. Only a certain number of athletes could go to certain meets, and certain meets required qualifying times or jump heights. The moments of performance began to fill me with dread, and similar to how I felt with soccer, it all turned sour. I was so nervous before every meet that I was near vomiting, the acrid taste in my mouth returning. Even when I was performing well, I was no longer enjoying myself. I quit track and field my sophomore year and said goodbye to another game I once loved. I didn’t know how to “compete” when all I wanted to do was play.
After that, play seemed like a novel concept to me. I knew what I wanted it to feel like, holding onto my childlike memories of games, but couldn’t seem to find it in my young adult life. I was even nervous for board games and card games with friends because these experiences with competition shattered my view of what play meant. I also had to learn to move my body outside of organized sports. I became a gym rat, kicking my own ass day after day to lift heavier regardless of how I felt physically or emotionally. Competing against myself only as a punishment, and utterly lacking fun. The joy of movement was always tied to the joy of the game, which had been taken from me over and over again.
It wasn’t until after I graduated from college that I learned to listen to my body again. My partner and I had moved away from home for the first time, and I decided to join a yoga studio nearby. I had done yoga before and always found it to be fun, but at my first class at 110 Yoga in Raleigh, the instructor serendipitously kept coming back to the concept of play. They noted that with yoga, every class is a practice, never a performance. No one was competing to be the best, yet we were still in community as we flowed through poses together, unlike my isolated gym routine. My smile returned as I challenged myself to try higher level balance poses and fell out of them over and over. It was a game with no ending, no performance - movement that felt good to my body, that allowed me to explore, that allowed me to play.
Yoga continues to be my favorite form of movement and helped me find playfulness in adulthood. What healed my relationship with team sports however, I owe to Stonewall Sports, and a particularly incredible dodgeball team with the name “Good Duck, Babe!”
When I moved back to Massachusetts, a dear friend of mine invited me to join their dodgeball team. I was nervous to meet new people and nervous to perform. It had been so long since I was on a team. This was the opposite of yoga - there was no practice, only performance. Gratefully, I was quickly shown I had no reason to be fearful. I was met with open arms, positivity and encouragement every step of the way. We played to win, don’t get me wrong, but there was no competing for playing time or competing against your own team for some greater goal. We rotated fairly, we cheered each other on, we all had amazing athletic moments and not so amazing moments that were all laced with belly laughter. We came in second place in the championships last week, and even though it’s only been a few days since the season finished, the laughter is what I remember the most. That’s how I know I found the joy of the game again - it feels exactly how it did when I was a 10 year old and nothing mattered. It felt like pure, unencumbered, play.
Now, without fear, my friends and I are planning game nights and I’m considering joining a pickleball league for the Summer. I know how to play games just for fun again and I know how to move my body in joyful ways. This is one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in my adult life and one I don’t plan on forgetting. How do you make room for play?
All my love and with a great big smile,
-Katie
Music Recs: music is quite literally so good right now I can’t believe my luck to exist at the same time as these artists
I saw Boys Go to Jupiter on Friday and they blew me away - the chemistry this band has together should be bottled and sold. I adore their entire album, chef kiss, no notes, check it out: Meet Me After Practice
Paper Lady opened for them and they were phenomenal !
I saw Miki Fiki, my favorite artist, for a second time this past Sunday and they played some new songs from their album coming out in April that were KILLER - can’t wait for the full album to be released!
Zola Simmone opened - so talented! Check out their songs “This Is It” and “Pirouette”
Amelia Day also performed, her voice is absolutely ANGELIC and she has new music coming soon as well - check out her songs “Skippin’ Down the Sidewalk” and “Eastward of Eden”
The new Hotel Mira album Pity Party - the emo teenager in me is screaming along to every single song
The new Japanese Breakfast Album: For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)
Coyote by Mt. Joy (so excited for their new album)
Walking Song by The Slow Country
I Want it All by Ullah
Red Room by Hiatus Kaiyote
Book Recs:
Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson is one of the best books I’ve ever read in my life. 5 stars does not do it justice, a must read.
If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio. Dark academia is so entertaining - if you love The Secret History by Donna Tart, you will love this!
Other Recs:
Support your local libraries and museums! Now is a great time to get a new library card or get a museum membership (museum membership make GREAT gifts as well).
I LOVED The Secret History. So glad you found playfulness in movement again! This is a journey I am still on, and it's good to know it's possible <3