There’s a wild, untamed magic in the way children play—uninhibited, fully present, lost in the sheer joy of the moment. They don’t question whether their sandcastle is “good enough.” They don’t fret over who’s watching as they spin in dizzy circles, arms outstretched, laughing at the sky. They just play. And in that play, they are free.

Somewhere between adulthood’s responsibilities and society’s expectations, we traded our playfulness for productivity, our curiosity for caution. We started believing that play was frivolous—something to be outgrown, like baby teeth or old teddy bears. But what if play isn’t just child’s play? What if it’s the secret to a life that feels alive?

I remember the first time I let myself be silly again. It was a rain-soaked afternoon, and I found myself jumping in puddles—not to get somewhere, just for the sheer, stupid joy of it. The splash! The cold shock of water on my ankles! The way my laughter echoed down the empty street, as if the universe itself was giggling back at me.

In that moment, I wasn’t a grown-up with bills and deadlines. I was just a body in motion, a heart wide open. And something inside me woke up.

Play isn’t just about fun (though fun is a damn good reason). It’s about freedom—the freedom to explore, to fail gloriously, to create without critique. It’s where wisdom and whimsy collide, where the deepest truths often hide inside the lightest moments.

Think of the last time you lost track of time—dancing in your kitchen, doodling in a notebook, chasing a dog through a park. That’s play. And in those moments, something shifts. Your mind stops its relentless chatter. Your shoulders drop. You remember, even if just for a heartbeat, who you were before the world told you who you should be.

It’s also rebellion. In a world that demands seriousness, choosing play is an act of defiance. It’s saying: I refuse to shrink my joy. I will not abandon the parts of me that know how to marvel at fireflies or turn cardboard boxes into spaceships.

1. Start Small – Blow bubbles. Spin in circles. Sing badly in the shower. Play doesn’t need to be grand; it just needs to be yours.
2. Forget “Good At” – You don’t have to be “good” at playing. The goal isn’t mastery; it’s presence.
3. Invite Curiosity – Ask, What delights me? Then follow that thread, even if it leads to something “silly.”
4. Embrace the Mess – Play is messy. So is life. Let both be gloriously imperfect.

So, here’s my challenge to you: Today, do one thing just for the joy of it. Not to post it. Not to monetize it. Not to impress anyone. Just because it makes your soul wiggle.

Dance with your shadow.
Build a fort out of blankets.
Write a poem in crayon.

Remember: The child you once were hasn’t disappeared. They’re still there, waiting for you to come out and play.

Now, go be gloriously, unapologetically alive.