Play Time
When I was in the third grade I loved to swing. At recess I would race to the playground in hopes of getting the swing right across from a huge old oak tree that shaded the yard. Kicking my feet and leaning back further and further my goal was to touch the tips of the leaves that, to me, were at the very top of the tree. I can still remember the feeling of breathlessness as I would soar higher and higher! Then it would happen… my senses would reach overload as the wind whipped through my hair, the sound of the clanking chains rang in my ears, the sun warmed my face… and I would laugh. I couldn’t help it… and I couldn’t stop! The joy just bubbled out.
I watched my sons playing together tonight and got lost in *their* joy.
Not a care in the world, they threw all of the pillows from the couch to the floor and jumped from stepping stone to stepping stone. ”Be careful, Little One” said Big Brother, “or you’ll fall into the river!”. Round and round they walked, jumped and hopped until they collapsed into a pile of giggles. Inwardly I was filled with thankfulness… I can remember worrying that the six years between them would get in the way of times like this. I didn’t need to worry, oh how they play! 
When was the last time YOU played? Pushed aside the stresses and cares of life, job and responsibilities to feel your whole being fill with delight? Laughed till tears streamed down your face and your sides hurt? Jumped in a puddle? What makes you feel like a kid again?
With two little boys I have to schedule my play time… but I do… and I’m so glad for it! I sit down to paint and time stands still. Bottles of paint start to take over my table and soon even my palette is a work of art! While scrapbooking or making cards I pull out my “stuff” and get lost in sensory overload as beautiful papers, fibers and embellishments fill me with creative excitement! Have you ever experienced this???
When I design and create I’m a child on the swings with the wind tugging at my pony tail… oh, come play with me! *Ü*
May 17th, 2008 at 7:23 am
Thanks Lorrie, for taking me back to childhood days and childhood dreams, been a long time since I thought of the free spirit, where no one could touch or harm me as I floated through the air on a swing. All was good during that time on a swing, until the swing chain snapped as i was in mid air and came crashing down to the ground with a hard landing. I will never forget.
May 17th, 2008 at 8:04 am
I been pondering you post for awhile. We (DH and I) don’t laugh enough any more …. thanks for the reminder.
May 17th, 2008 at 9:19 am
Lorrie, I love reading your entries, they are so thought provoking and I get pulled in to what I am reading. I will say it one more time, you should be a writer!!
May 17th, 2008 at 10:28 am
How wonderful it is to stop & remember the things that make us feel joy and excitement. I’ll have to put that on my schedule. LOL *grin* Thank you for reminding us about what is truly important. “Stop and smell the flowers while you are painting them.”
May 17th, 2008 at 10:44 am
Sue,
Was that the last time on a swing for you?
I’m just curious as “Little One” slipped while climbing the steps on the toddler play area this week and hit his chin on the step in front of him… I immediately scooped him up to sooth his tears with a quiet voice and loving kisses, but he quickly began wiggling to get down- scurrying right back over to the steps to give it another go. To make it even worse, he did it again! Another round of tears and kisses. When I set him back on the ground I turned and started to direct him to another place to play, but he went back AGAIN to the steps! There was another mother standing there to whom I said “Three strikes and he’s out!”. LOL
I was a nervous wreck watching him, and at the same time amazed and relieved that he didn’t have a fear of climbing those steps! Of course, he now managed just fine (with a bit of help from a hand that wouldn’t let go of his no matter how hard he pulled) and he ended up on that section of the play area for the remainder of our time there.
There’s a verse in Isaiah that speaks of picking up after hard times that I have always loved:
“… He shall give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.”—Isaiah 61:3.
Thank goodness when we fall down emotionally (or even creatively) there is a loving hand there helping us back up onto our feet. What a blessing that even when “the chain breaks”… when life comes crashing down around us… maybe through no fault of our own… we can again experience joy and delight.
Thanks for taking my thoughts a bit further, Sue… I am counting my blessings that, at least for today, my chain is holding strong. Hugs!! *Ü* ~Lorrie
May 17th, 2008 at 12:34 pm
Lorrie, thanks for sharing, I couldn’t help but smile, when I read your memories.
I spent this past week-end with my middle son. While Ronnie & Mindy got the swimming pool ready for summer, his little girl, who is seven, and I set in the back yard where a small patch of white clover has taken over, I showed her how to make rings and bracelets out of the clover.
I laid in the clover with my eyes closed and floated back to the days that my Sis and I played in the large fields of red and white clover on my Grandfather’s farm and the many happy hours spent making jewelery out of the clover. I could actually hear the sounds of the cows lowing in the distance, the birds flying over head and the summer smells of honeysucker. How much fun those days were.
May 17th, 2008 at 9:20 pm
Truly enjoyed this addition to your blog. Brought back memories even to when
I was a child on the farm; activities that aren’t experienced these days.
Gathering the eggs from the chicken house; creating my ‘house’ in the trees
with many different rooms; bringing in armloads of wood for the kitchen
stove; Monday mornings carrying pails of water (with my sis and bro’) from
the well in sufficient amounts for Mother to put in big boilers on the wood
burning stove, heated for washing clothes in the motor driven wringer
washing machine. Then off to the country school house - a 1 1/2 mile walk.
I could go on and on.
Watching my own children helping each other, or scrapping together all seem
like blessings now. I hope I never forget them; am trying to put many of
these experiences in a journal for them to reflect on too. (Should have
done journaling along the way!)
Marj A