Fun and Games

There is something deeply wired into the core of who we are - a deep love for play. We may spend a lot of time denying it - but the very attention that we pay to others - the slight quicking of our hearts when a good game starts shows our pretense for what it is.

Hunger for games is mirrors the itch to move our limbs in dance upon hearing the lilting strains of a melody - or joyous drumbeating rythyms. Playing is a wonderful joy of letting go - in creating another world with its own exciting rules - that mirrors and enhances the world we experience.

Consider a heap of mud that was shaped outside my office.

The red mud was gradually shaped a beautiful house - complete with a miniature working well. The sons of the miller who runs the flour mill next door (these same boys who were so often beaten by their father in the past) spent many happy hours building this marvel. I was delighted to see it take shape - every addition a testimony to the genius of play.


Note the small plant that was added (above) - and the styrofoam wheel (below) that was crafted so that a small bottle cap could draw water out of the well. A few days after this shot a carpet of green sprouts had made a virtual lawn...

Pictures courtesy Enoch Eicher - who was fascinated by this beautiful house.

Games take us into other worlds. Even the simplest one. Take the vicarous thrill of 'snakes and ladders'. A big equaliser. No real skill required. Just the joy and minor sorrow of seeing your playing piece move ahead - or slip back.

And then there are the more physical contests. We had special games times at the Church Camp - but these were relatively poorly attended. But at the same time spontaneous circles of sport opened up. Vigorous dodge-ball contests provided much entertainment - for participants and spectators alike.

Being a game of some skill - the group self selected. Most of the time it was the late high-school and college / young professional crowd that made up this particular set of games.

Asha and Enoch were masters at Uno - and spent many happy games at home (with us) and at camp (with tons of other eager players).

For me - I thank God for the plastic heirloom that Enoch spends hours playing with - our Lego set from days of yore.

Having a 7 going on 8 year old son allows this old man plenty of opportunities to play. Our latest project is below:


Our first swimming pool - complete with real water and lots of mini-men doing the float (they don't seem to be very active).

What is it about Lego that keeps bringing me back to it? I think it is a combination of the joy of seeing things fit together - the pleasure of seeking out pieces from the mountain of bricks that we have - of seeing a design take shape - constantly tweaking it here and there.

And also the joy of making something that is our world in miniature.

A small world that mirrors out bigger one. The pleasure of creating a similacure of something that we experience - or wish to experience. The delight in seeing the big in the small - an ordinary beauty of seeing the known scaled down into miniature settings.

And then the incongruity of our size which towers Gulliver-like over the land.

Play is of course robustly therapeutic. But more than the knock-on benefits - we play because we delight in living out stories.