Today I was feeling a little depressed.
I got up at my usual time, made breakfast, and sat down to watch the news. And believe it or not, it wasn’t the news that made me depressed, just a culmination of things building up over the course of the last four weeks. Being stuck at home. Not seeing friends. Missing my parents and nieces and nephews.
It’s Spring Break, and like the rest of the world, we aren’t going anywhere. Easter is in two days, and we are smack dab in the middle of negotiating the sale of our house, which has been on the market for the last eight months.
Everything feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
To pass the time, I was flipping through this book I bought for my daughter at Christmastime. It’s called For the Love of Paper, and it’s filled with posters, stickers, envelope templates, and cards.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to make little Easter outfits out of the pretty paper for a set of paper dolls?” I thought.
But then I remembered that my youngest daughter is twelve, and getting her to do anything with me these days is a challenge. She doesn’t like playing with dolls anymore, and so I talked myself out of even asking her.
In fact, I decided not to make the paper dolls at all.
And deciding NOT to do this made me even more sad.
Because for years I’ve been telling other parents about the importance of free play. I preach about creativity all the time. And here I was, with plenty of time on my hands, a drawer full of art supplies, and most importantly an idea about something to do, and instead of going for it, I said, “Nah. That’s dumb.”
Free play helps kids learn how to think and grow and solve problems. They’re practicing being grownups years before they’re actually grown up. We provide them with blocks, so they can build houses and plastic kitchen sets, so they can prepare pretend meals for their pretend families. They set up pretend offices in their playrooms and build secret forts outside. They hold “board meetings” long before they ever get a chance to lead a real one. They “fly airplanes” and “drive cars,” all practice for the day they get to fill up the tank and take off on their own.
This important time is the foundation for everything they’ll one day become.
And suddenly it dawned on me: I’m becoming something, too.
These days at home are not wasted days.
What if I reframed my circumstances to reconnect with childhood?
What if I could recapture some of that childlike curiosity to practice things I’ve never done so that on the day we’re free from this self-imposed quarantine I won’t be overwhelmed by all there is to do?What if I used this time to make a plan?
And what if I did it by thinking of it as play?
Time at home is practice, not punishment.
Children live in a strictly controlled environment. Where than can go and what they can do and with whom is monitored.
We use words like “good parenting” and “boundaries,” but let’s be honest—that’s a fancy way of framing “quarantine.”
And yet, kids don’t stop playing.
In fact, most of my friends tell me it’s not their kids who are having trouble with quarantine—it’s them.
The parents are the ones who are struggling.
We’ve tasted freedom.
We know what we’re missing.
And I could sit here and feel sorry for myself and be bitter because I don’t “have anyone to play with” or I could reconnect with little Chantel and just make the clothes for the paper dolls.
Because it’s fun.
And it’s creative.
And golly, I want to.
The biggest obstacle to play is boredom.
According to Harvard educators, you just have to wait out that initial discomfort, which is unfamiliar and might feel scary. (source)
“To be bored” is not a synonym for “to waste time.”
And I think I had tricked myself into believing that all these weeks spent at home were a waste of time, despite the truth that our family is spending more time together, eating higher quality meals, getting more sleep, being more thoughtful of others, acting more generously, laughing more, spending more time in meditation, practicing more mindfulness and gratitude, keeping a cleaner house, maintaining an organization strategy, exercising outdoors, and checking on friends who live far away.
It’s been such a long time since I’ve had to be self-directed and curious. In this over-scheduled world, every minute of my day is planned and accounted for.
And truth be told—it’s mostly reactive. Until now, I have been doing what other people wanted me to do. Saying yes to meetings. Adding appointments to my calendar. Driving carpool.
And now…
Now, I get to decide what I want to do because there is literally nothing to do.
For the first time in a long time, adults and kids get to enjoy free play together.
Free play allows people to develop cognitive and emotional strengths. Free play enhances problem solving skills.
But most importantly, play decreases depression, anxiety, perfectionism, and stress.
All this extra time is practice for the grownup I want to be. I don’t want to be depressed or anxious. I want to say goodbye to stress, and most importantly I want to be ready for any problem that might come my way.
On the surface, making clothes for paper dolls doesn’t seem like it would be practice for any kind of real-life problem, especially since I don’t even know how to use a sewing machine. But that’s exactly the kind of negative self-talk that keeps us from connecting with our childhood.
And there’s no reason why you can’t say yes to an activity just because it sounds like it might be fun.
I’m gonna go get my book and get to work.
Ummm, no not work…play.