To Live is to Play

We come into this life with a few inborn skills—to Breathe, to Smile, to Love, to Laugh, and to Play.

Robert Fulgum once said, “All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten.”

Well, when I was in kindergarten, at home my playground was a bloody battlefield. Instead of playing Princess Tea Time, House, and Dress-Up, I played GI Jane, fleeing flying shrapnel while taking refuge in my sandbox of foxholes and trenches. I got to play real-life Cops and Robbers, Keep Away, and Hide and Go Seek. Life was an ongoing game of 52-Card Pickup and everywhere was Hot Lava, Hot Potatoes, and Dodgeball. BTW, you really need to watch this video:

Then God finally said, “Olly Olly Oxen Free!”

But still it just didn’t feel safe to come out of hiding. The war was over, but carnage everywhere, nowhere to call home, now a refugee. How does one find sanctuary from the war-torn country of one’s mind? God gave me an education, a job, friends I could call family, and eventually restoration of relationships with my family. But the PTSD.

War makes it hard to go back to ‘normal life’. Veteran Eddie Ray Routh was tormented with mental illness the day he shot American Sniper Chris Kyle. A whopping 17% of the homeless population are veterans and 96% of homeless veterans come from poor, disadvantaged communities. Both war abroad and war at home veterans. Double whammy.

At one point in our sojourn through life the terror of war raped us of the innocence and joy of play.

Although innocence can never be recovered, is it possible for a human to return to the joy of play equal to that of a child or greater?

I remembered when I was a child the excitement of going to Riverside, present-day Six Flags New England. I made a chart in pencil on an index card and crossed off every day, anticipating the Saturday we would go. I was devastated when it rained and our trip had to be postponed for another week.

I remember being filled with anticipation Christmas morning, bolting down the stairs, beholding the glory of tightly-wrapped presents under the tree with my name and only my name on them that were clearly not there the night before.

I remember the peace and joy of waking up in the family tent, smelling fresh pinewood, campfire, and coconut sunscreen, knowing the day would be filled with beachside fun, clamming, tide-pool exploring, and smore-making.

I remember Sunday afternoon walks around Elizabeth Park, holding my chocolates Dad gave me and savoring each one for every step of the way, walking up and down the rose garden.

I remember Asher, our sweet-spirited cocker spaniel, with his wagging stub of a tail and happy smile with drool spilling out of his mouth, taking a drive over the hills of Simsbury, where the now Hartford Temple will be dedicated this fall.

What happened to the anticipation, excitement, joy, peace, and pleasure that came so easily and freely to my human heart and how do I get it back?

Dad says I started to lose my joy at 5 years old.

Recently I took a group ziplining through the picturesque Rocky Mountains of Heber, Utah. The weather was perfect and there was no obvious reason for any kind of sullenness from the three beautiful triplet Puerto Rican preteen boys. I could see that something had stolen their joy. It was unnatural for all three of these boys to be so depressed so young. I wanted to look into their eyes and tell them it was safe to come out and play and enjoy, but I knew that it was not safe. They would go back to war as soon as they went back home. Must keep armor on.

“Amy, you look so sad. Smile!” “Amy, you must be depressed, smile!” “Amy, you’re so shy.” “Amy is reserved.” “Amy doesn’t like to talk very much.” “Be happy!” “Amy, do this.” “Amy, do that.”

“Amy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to let you into the choir. You’re not very expressive.” “Amy, you’re so quiet, I can’t hear you. You need to project more.” “Your voice is so monotone.” “Your face is like THIS: (dead stare)” “I didn’t want to be friends with you in high school; I thought you were so boring.”

Apparently I died way before my body died. Humans’ feeble attempts to revive me by telling me to smile, shaming me for being quiet and withdrawn, forcing me into self-expression, and other such behaviors felt like beating the dead horse, which was me. Only the love of God Almighty could reach into my soul and infuse the light of life back into me.

Singing was the first portal for my spirit to create life within me again. Then in high school I fell madly in love with a boy that made me laugh and so humor became access to my joy. In college, I took up acting, running, dancing. Then I found joy in learning Spanish, speaking, teaching, writing, and studying.

But it all felt like work. Work, work, work.

When I sang, it was work. “Amy, you’re pushing too hard. It sounds strained. Let go and free up your voice.”

First Voice Recital

When I danced, it was work. “Amy, you’re trying too hard. Just have fun and the you’ll remember the steps.”

First Dance Performance

When I acted, it was work. “Amy, you look so serious. Use more facial expressions.”

First Play

Everything I did was effortful, trying, push, shove, hard, stress, exhaustion, not good enough, needs

to be better. Flawless. Perfect. Perfection.

Even when I was trying to play, I was trying to play and it was work and it was hard.

“God, please show me how to simply play again?”

Years of perfect--trying to be perfect, anyway.

Then one day, out of the blue, the answer just came.

I was talking to a friend on the phone and I came to the understanding that it was my responsibility to choose play. I told her that I was committed to do something fun—fun for ME—every day, every day, every day. I wasn’t going to do anything to please anyone else or making anyone else happy. I wasn’t going to be happy for anyone else or smile for anyone else. But I was going to do something that I considered fun every day.

The next day I woke up, got in my car, and determined to find a trail to hike. I drove a very long, long time and found a hidden cul de sac with a hidden trail in Deer Valley. I started hiking and not before long I nearly ran into a mother moose and a baby moose! How fun was that!!?

The following days I went to a live band karaoke, country dancing several times, birthday parties, played a guitar, went hiking three times in two days, went swimming with friends. Then suddenly I received an email from a Destination Management Company in Park City asking me to work as a contractor, resulting in total joy and satisfaction in employment for the first time in my life, earning more than I have ever earned, doing what I love, which is planning and executing special events. Now I take corporate groups rafting, ziplining, painting, horseback riding, and golfing—having fun every day, every day, every day.

Spontaneously I thereafter attracted several men that I would have previously thought were totally out of my league. The angel voices in my head said, “Why NOT you? Who are you to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be!? You are a child of God. You’re smart, you’re fun, you’re worthy of someone amazing TOO!”  I woke up and realized I’ve been worthy all along; they’ve simply been waiting for me to come out and play.

The clouds have lifted and it is as if I am living instead of surviving for the first time in my life. I now see so many people living in survival mode with tired and sullen eyes, focused on war, terror, famine, and darkness and then I’ve discovered this whole other race of humans that are bright with light and joy that heal the world with love because they choose light, joy, and love every day, every day, every day, every day.

Kevin Trudeau said that the most important thing you can do is to “feel good now.” Play is a choice and  over time play instead of work can become an ‘unconscious competence’ as an adult.

Thomas Edison once said, “I never worked a day in my life. It was all fun.”

As for me, if I must choose between survival and death, I choose death, because survival is death of the spirit anyway. I want to live.

My mentor, Gary Acevedo, taught me, “To live is to play.”

I fell in love with Michael Jackson's personal favorite song "Smile" on Hope Floats, a telling tale of his own struggles:

Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile, even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky

You'll get by if you smile
Through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just

Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile, even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky
You'll get by

If you smile
Through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile