Blissful Play

When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

Responsible Adult Behaviour I

Responsible Adult Behaviour  (Photo credit: monojussi)

Michelle is one curious humanoid. I like that she added (if ever) to her prompt today. Do we ever feel really grown up?

I know I am grown up, because I have grown up responsibilities. I own a home (along with the woman who holds our mortgage); I have a husband; I have kids; I work; and I don’t play enough.

Does being grown up mean we have lost the ability to play? I remember getting lost in the world of play—it was a real world where anything was possible. My dolls could be anything they wanted to be—they were only limited by my imagination. I used to love to use a hammer and nails and make inventions with whatever scraps I found in my dad’s garage—and those inventions were the stuff that made my dreams come true—contraptions that made no sense, but made sense to me.

Different types of stuffed toys

Different types of stuffed toys (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I also used to imagine at night, that the bed that I was on would take me on exotic trips—and I always wanted to have a favourite stuffed animal with me to go on the trip, and some food (usually in the form of crackers) on my bedside table I could grab in case we did not get back in time for breakfast the next morning. (To this day, I think that these night time adventures could be real, and have a package of saltines on my bedside dresser).

Reading was also part of my playing. I remember my brother reading poetry to me before I could read myself—I loved the words and where they could take me. And then when I was able to read myself, the journeys I could go on, and the people I could be in my imagination were boundless.

I want to take back my right to play. Sometimes I can relive those days of play when I create using paper and paste, or scrapbooking, or even making little vignettes throughout my house of objects I have.

 I think the very core of play is creativity, and I think that writing can be counted as play—those times when one is not sweating blood while creating (but even then it can be satisfying when you express something just the right way.) Writing–where you can put your imaginings on paper can be blissful play.

Do you think that writing can be considered playful bliss?

Published in: on March 6, 2013 at 1:45 pm  Comments (48)  
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Clean Slate

English: The Great Dining Room. Chatsworth House

NOT MY DINING ROOM: The Great Dining Room At Chatsworth House (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Daily Post prompt “Clean Slate” wants us to explore the room we are in as if it is the first time we have encountered it and describe the person or people who inhabit(s) it. Or this is the prompt I am attempting with a little of my own paraphrasing.

The room I am in right now is an office slash dining room. Most of the walls have bookshelves starting from about four feet off the ground to the ceiling. They are jam-packed. Fuller than capacity. They hold mostly books but also a lot of mementos–not just bric-a-brac–but things that seem to be meaningful.

There are two desks which are really doors professionally finished off to look like furniture placed on six filing cabinets. One might wonder what it is in the filing cabinets as there are a lot of files and paperwork neatly piled on a shelf, under a shelf and on the desks. The room  looks neat as if it had been cleaned up for Christmas.

The dining room table has a lace tablecloth on it, and though one at first glance would not know it, the table is pretty clean compared to its usual state. The people who live here probably do not eat at the table formally every night, but on occasion.

The room has a laptop, business phone, an old fax machine unplugged so that no incoming faxes can be received, a combination printer/scanner/photocopy machine, and a calculator.

Book shelf

Book shelf (Photo credit: jayneandd)

If you were to come into this room you would think that the people who live here read a lot. And you would be right. You would think that there is a writer in residence from the titles of some of the books, and the names on some of the files. You would think they were running a contracting business from the names on the other files, and the calculator sitting on the dining room table may mean they do their own book work. You would think looking at this room that these people had potential. And you would be right. The people who live here have lots of potential, some of it still unrealized.

There seems to be an attempt at organization  in some areas. The rug is worn and in need of replacement. Kids were brought up here. You can tell by some of the pictures and memorabilia–basketball trophies, some Lego figures, pictures of boys at different stages of their school and athletic careers. And you see signs of creativity–homemade things, written things, projects unfinished. There is a picture propped up on one of the desks of a young happy couple on their wedding day. Seems to be from the early 1980’s from the style of the clothing.

This is a well-used room. It has a TV in one corner and an old stereo that is over a quarter of a century old. A CD player has been added to the works, but the record player still holds a place of honour. There are a few records and lots of CDs.

This is obviously a room where life is lived and work is done. It has seen blissful times and hard times. And it will see more of both.

Do you have a room that has seen blissful times?

Published in: on January 13, 2013 at 2:33 pm  Comments (66)  
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