Playing for Balance

You never know what might appear in The New York Times. The paper takes its masthead seriously: “All the News that Fit to Print.” Sometimes the paper will present an article that, while not exactly news, provides a refreshing perspective or supports common sense. A recent article on parenting and mental health did both. In fact, the article made me cheer. Last Thursday (1/6/11), the front page of the Home and Garden Section featured an article centered on play. The article, "Effort To Restore Children's Play Gains Momentum", focused on the growing awareness among psychologists, educators and parents that excessive attention to achievement and success is detrimental to children, and that the ethos of achievement exacts a price—often at the expense of playtime, creativity and imagination. As the article rightly points out, playing is crucial to children’s emotional development and mental health.

Play is also vital to the mental health of adults.

Play (how we play, as well as who and what we play with) is something that is rarely directly addressed in psychotherapy with adults. Too bad, because play is essential for living balanced, healthy lives. Being able to play signals a willingness to experiment, to try out new behaviors—regardless of the outcome. In fact, playing creates a space where outcomes are less important than play itself, where failure is acceptable—even valued—for its ability to open doors onto new experiences and possibilities. Children play quite naturally: they use to play to learn about themselves, their abilities, and their relationships to the world. Children playing “dress-up” are, among other things, experimenting with social and gender roles, trying our different identities. They are, of course, not conscious about what they are doing—they’re just playing.

Adults have a much harder time with play; it’s seen as frivolous, especially in Western culture where work and productive outcomes are valued. Adults get caught up competition—and play stops being play and becomes work. Moreover, adults have a difficult time turning off the self-conscious, analytic brain. Indeed, adults have a difficult time just being present. We’re too concerned about outcomes, appearances, meeting expectations, winning. And for adults who experienced trauma as children, playing can be a frightening experience: play requires a loosening of vigilance, and play lowers defenses. Playing can make adults feel vulnerable. Hence, the difficulty with playing. But the inability to play exacts a price: anxiety, depression, addiction, among other problems.

When we are unable to balance work with play, our sense of self becomes distorted. Too often in our culture, one’s sense of self is tied directly to work and productivity, and when something occurs that severs that tie, the emotional and psychological turmoil that ensues is profoundly disorienting. Think of the emotional devastation that comes in the wake of a suddenly lost job: the turmoil centers not just the financial insecurities that arise or the concerns about being able to survive. For many, the real disorientation lies in questions regarding identity: who am I? Upon what ground does my sense of worth rest?

Similarly, couples who do not play—separately or together—often have difficulty with intimacy. They become locked into one- or two-dimensional roles that don’t permit them to see, much less accept or fully experience, each other. They don’t share the space that creates meaningful intimacy.

In a very real sense, psychotherapy is a process that invites play. Good therapy creates a safe space where play can occur. Indeed, therapy is playful. The psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott wrote about this: “in playing, perhaps only in playing, the child or adult is free to be creative” (Playing and Reality, p.71). In play, you can try out new behaviors, new ways of thinking, new ways of approaching life. So it is with psychotherapy: in a sense, therapy is about creating freedom, and playing is a process whereby freedom can be created—an internal freedom that allows us just to be. Indeed, therapy can help you can be your authentic self—balanced and whole. We learn who we are when we play.

Julia, Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, offered an insightful means for helping adults reconnect with the freedom that arises from play. She suggested that adults take themselves on “artist dates”—engaging in a different activity that allows for experimentation and fun each week. The activities can be anything from exploring a part of the city you don’t know to flying a kite, to singing. These dates need not have any particular outcome other than that they be something that lies outside one’s routine and unrelated to one’s work. (Notice that these are activities—not entertainments. Going to the movies, watching TV doesn’t count, or being otherwise passively entertained doesn’t count. Playing is always active.)

Playing IS therapeutic.

Great Expectations

‘Tis the season of great expectations. And while many experience the December holidays with joyful anticipation and good cheer, many others approach the holidays with dread and depression. ‘Tis also the season for stress, anxiety and disappointment. There are undoubtedly many, many reasons for the holiday blues. But I think that one of the most significant factors that creates and sustains holiday stress centers on expectations. While we create expectations for ourselves and others throughout the year, the December holidays amplify them. Indeed, it seems that the holidays are especially freighted with high expectations. For too many people, the December holidays resonate with the word “should” (or words like it—i.e., ‘ought’, 'must'): I "should” buy XX a gift; I “should” bake holiday cookies for my family; I “should” attend the holiday party at my boss’ home; I “ought” to spend time with my family; my family “should” be happy; my partner “should” love me and show it by doing _____; I “should” get along with my parents or with my children; the money I spend on gifts “should” show how much I love my family; my family “should” be grateful for my generosity. There are enormous social conventions and familial pressures that reinforce all these expectations. (How well retail stores and advertisers understand and exploit this!) Unfortunately, expectations often collide with reality. And so, all those “shoulds” become imperatives, and the season that “should” be joyful turns into a season of drudgery and joyless obligation.

Alas, our expectations are not always reasonable. And so, when expectations are out of sync with reality (or what is reasonably possible), or when expectations have morphed into joyless obligations, anxiety, resentment, and disappointment seem almost inevitable. (Notice, too, how expectations remove us from the present reality into an unknown, inchoate future—a sure recipe for creating anxiety.)

It seems to me that most, if not all, the season’s expectations center on the quality of our relationships. The holidays amplify any anxiety we may feel about our sense of connectedness. Look at the list above; each statement reflects insecurity about relationship. And yet this is precisely where I see hope for changing our experience of the holidays: I think that our anxious expectations during this season are really expressions of our desire to feel connected, to love and feel loved—in the present.

From my vantage as a therapist, the holidays offer an annual opportunity to take a look at our desires for connection and relationship, and how our expectations express those desires (not that such work need be limited to the holidays!). The work of therapy, especially during the December holidays, can focus on examining the expectations we have for ourselves and others. Therapy can help us understand how we’ve come to have all those expectations; it can help us discern how our expectations impel or impede our growth and relatedness. Therapy can also help us determine whether those expectations are reasonable or in sync with the larger contexts and realities of our lives. Therapy can help us rid ourselves of or reconfigure those unreasonable or dysfunctional expectations.

In essence, the work of therapy is really about creating and improving our connections and relationships—work that acquires an urgency during the December holiday season as people struggle to cope and find some measure of deeper meaning and peace.

By looking at and by letting go of those expectations that impede growth and relatedness; by embracing the desire for connection; and by finding healthy ways to express those desires, we can experience the holidays as opportunities for connection. We may even find some small measure of serenity and peace.