When we were children, we knew how to play. We were encouraged to play. Our mothers sent us outside with a simple command: “Go play.” At some point, we abandoned that instinct. We unlearned how to play freely. Adult play became competitive, scheduled, and often obligatory. Office leagues, church game nights, organized sports for our children. Even recreation became structured and managed. The whimsy drained out of it.
As a child, I spent hours watching clouds roll across the Miami sky. The afternoon rainstorms built towering formations, perfect for imagination. My parents let us roam, and roaming was its own kind of magic. Play was unstructured unless we decided otherwise. Rules were flexible. Teams formed and dissolved democratically. Even when playground bullies appeared, the collective usually kept them in check.
Adulthood feels different. Competition sharpens. Egos harden. Rudeness and aggression seem to carry more weight. It can feel lonely and joyless.
I longed for a place to play again.
I found it in World of Warcraft. It is a vast playground where you can wander alone or join others. You never truly fail. Nothing is permanently broken. It is frolicsome and meaningless in the best way. That meaninglessness is its gift. I had forgotten the joy of pointless play. There, I laugh, banter, and explore. People are mostly kind. Unkindness is simply ignored.
It feels like reclaiming something sacred.
See you on the playground.
