
When I watch a young child in uninterrupted play, I marvel at the degree of concentration brought to the moment. Whether s/he is still or active, a sense of purpose shows clearly in the expression. Crouched, he sits motionless, following the path of an ant with his eyes. She doesn’t hear us call to her, so intent is she on where the ant is going and what the ant is doing. She has entered the world of Ant. The same is true as she moves her dolls one-by-one from the carriage to the little bed, tucking them snugly in for their naps, perhaps talking softly to each one. He can spend long moments, lying on the carpet, rolling his cars and trucks back and forth, intently studying how the wheels roll across the rough surface.
If we interrupt her in these endeavors before she is satisfied, she will probably show an intense resistance to being jerked out of her absorbing meditations; rather like we feel when we are unexpectedly awakened from a deep sleep. That is why transitions are so difficult for young children. With all of their senses completely engaged in their play, it is quite a shock to be told that now they must get dressed, eat breakfast, brush their teeth, or anything other than what they are doing right now! Even the promise of doing something they love to do may meet with extreme frustration, because it brings them away from the all-engrossing moment.
Of course, being able to transition from one activity to another is an important skill, and one that children learn in time, but it is vital to provide long stretches of uninterrupted play for our children.
Play is many things. Play is practice. Play teaches. Play heals. Play nurtures. Play is a child’s work. Play is serious business. Play is hands-on learning about the world. Play, for adults, is invaluable soul food.
The eminent psychologist Carl Jung wrote that the activity that enabled as us to lose time when we were children continues to nurture and heal us as adults. For Dr. Jung that activity was building sand castles on the beach. How many of us remember what we loved to do as children that made time stop to the point of losing ourselves in doing something all consuming? How many of us, even children nowadays, do only one thing at a time, the habit of “multi-tasking” like second nature?
Several consequences of doing more than one thing at a time come to mind. Some research indicates that constant multi-tasking may lead to memory loss due to simply having too much on one’s mind. Going into a room, intent on some purpose, and then forgetting what I am after is becoming all too common!
Another effect is that we fail to truly experience or be aware of what we are doing or whom we are with. When we are not present for even little chunks of time during a day, where are we? We are reliving or regretting what happened in the past or worrying about what might happen in the future. Either way we are using precious energy on something that has already occurred or may never come to be. Regret and worry add up to fear and anxiety, experienced by most of us in epidemically unhealthy amounts. Thus the need for play, play in the real sense of play.
When we play with our children, it is important to follow their lead and to remember their ability to enter into play with total focus. Our adult impatience or lack of enthusiasm causes us all too often to become bored, and we inadvertently set our children up to develop short attention spans, diminishing their innate capacity to completely enter the world of play. Being able to sit quietly, absolutely feeling the sand, for example, as it slips through our fingers, opens a space within us where we are truly in communion with our child, allowing us to reenter that lost world where all that matters is this sand and this moment in time.
