At the park yesterday with my brood, a feeling of melancholy came over me…………When do we grow out of playing?

They looked so happy and carefree, challenging themselves to climb higher, run faster and jump further.  When did it all end with me?  Did it end or is it just not acceptable to be seen playing now?

The closest I get now (approaching 40) is riding my road bike, I still get to exercise not only my body, but also my childish sense of adventure.  I love seeing a road that I have never noticed before and just shooting down it to see where it goes.  I use things to fill the loss of play in my life, like:  Xbox, drones and, I guess my phone.  These take up my time, but none of them come close to that carefree abandon I had as a child.

Is that where it all ends?  With cares and responsibilities, do we see play as a luxury that we no longer need to prioritise when other things come along.   It’s so sad to think that people get older without fun, adventure and play.  Or is it the desire to get older to grow up and be more mature.  We all crave and rush towards it when we are younger, but when we get there and are comfortable with ourselves, do we ever rush back.  I think I’m ready to (my inner cynic giggling behind it’s hand and coughing the words…Midlife crisis.  Cheeky bugger).  But I can’t help wanting back play.

I would totally love for someone to open up an adult play ground near me.  To climb and swing, without the need for alcohol to lower my inhibitions enough to let go and start having fun.

As it stands though I thank God for the kids, they keep me young and plugged into that world.  Seeing them play and have fun is how kids are supposed to be, and I think adults are too.  So I’m off to the park with the kids again and this time I’m going to play too.


See you next time folks and don’t grow up.   (Cheeky wink)