A peal of laughter breaks my concentration. I lean over my computer and glance out my office window to see my kids zipping around our cul-de-sac. One of them whacks a tennis ball with a bit of PVC pipe, tosses the pipe in a bucket and sprints to tag a mailbox. Our dog thinks this is a newly devised game of chase and is barking gleefully. My other son grabs my husband by the shirt who appears to turn into a zombie as he attempts to get away. It’s chaotic mayhem, a perfect iteration of Calvinball.
Imagine a game with no rules yet lots of rules, a game where the number of players doesn't matter, a game where equipment doesn't matter, a game where your playing surface doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that you follow ONE RULE: "You can't play the same way twice."
Recently, Mr. Dadman and Mom Lady (our homeschool teacher personas) re-introduced regular recess into our boys’ schedule. And as devout Calvin & Hobbes disciples, first on their list of activities was Calvinball.
I was in college when I first started reading Calvin and Hobbes, but even then, still so close to youth, the poignancy of Calvin’s philosophy resonated. Calvin rails against the rigidity of institutions (organized sports, school, manners) and taps into his wildly vivid imagination to process and navigate the world around him. Perhaps I found Calvin so interesting because he was my opposite - while I was a perennial rule-follower who did things by the book, he delighted in challenging convention for the pure sake of fun. I couldn’t have imagined making a mutant snowman like Calvin. At eight, I was mortified when my mom and her friend carved breasts into our creation to make it a snow-woman. See? Rule-follower! But Calvin is an ideal reminder of what it’s like if we don’t take ourselves too seriously and what can happen when we don’t get bogged down.
Even though, as an adult and a mom, the messy ramifications of Calvin’s antics - the ones my kids find endlessly hilarious - leave me commiserating with his mom more than celebrating his inventiveness, there’s incredible value in seeing the world through Calvin’s eyes:
This is a world that needs more fun and less judgment. A world that imagines what's possible instead of what limits us. A world that playfully challenges the status quo instead of conforming to it. A world that reveals how simple things are instead of feeling mired by constructs and complexity.
Calvin reminds us what it’s like to be six years old, to have a beginner’s mind.
Calvin reminds us to play.
As I looked out my window and watched my kids that morning, I felt joy. I could see their excitement and feel their energy. But I also felt a pang of nostalgia, I used to play like that. And, if I am totally honest, I felt a bit jealous; I wanted to feel that sense of whimsical play again. Somewhere along the way, I lost that youthful ability to play just for the sake of playing - the spontaneous, imaginative, uninhibited play that Calvin (and my kids) exhibit so effortlessly. Actually, did I ever really have it in that way?
I suffer from what Stuart Brown refers to as “play guilt,” feeling like I should be doing something productive or crossing chores off my list. Since accomplishing tasks is deeply satisfying for me, I’ll often frame exercise or chores as my version of play. But these things are not the same.
Watching Calvinball reminds me of what play can be - an enjoyable activity without any concern for its outcome.
A few days later when the boys opened the door for recess, the feelings came flooding back - joy, nostalgia, jealousy, guilt. Though I was in the middle of something, I resisted my instinct to “just finish this email” and instead jumped up from my desk. It was recess time for me too. I grabbed my jacket, laced up my shoes, and made mental notes of the items in play (net, puppy, tennis balls, bucket, bat, bases, PVC pipe). I skipped into the cul-de-sac, bombarded by my kids’ voices as they talked over one another sharing all the rules for today’s game.
Resisting my need to fully comprehend the constantly-evolving rules, I embraced the confusion as I pitched a tennis ball one minute, was pinned to the asphalt by my 11-year old the next, and was never able to field a ball thanks to our 4-legged teammate who had assumed the role of permanent outfielder.
The game’s incredible lack of structure allowed me to release any expectations of how the game should go. I wasn’t worried about teaching my boys how to play the “right way.” I wasn’t worried about honing a skill, scoring points or working harder. The whole point is to let yourself be silly, to let your imagination carry you away and to play for the sake of playing - even if that means abandoning conventional rules along the way. After 15 minutes, recess was over, and we were all flushed and buzzing with positive energy.
We need more of this as adults. I need more of this as an adult, and I am committed to making Calvinball, or something like it, a weekly event.
I am looking forward to this Thanksgiving weekend for this very reason. I love the simple elegance of this holiday - we gather and we are grateful. I am grateful to have kids who remind me what, in my quest to be productive, I can lose sight of. So this weekend, in addition to the turkey eating, the #optoutside-ing and yes, some holiday deals shopping, I am also going to #optplay and spend some time playing without any concern for the outcome.
Maybe you will too.
What a timely reminder! And by Calvin! Positively perfect! My inner child has felt rage and then immense grief over the past few weeks. Your words are a good reminder to tap into my joy.🧡