The sense of play that I like to bring up from childhood centers on a few vague and fragmented memories. As a six years old, I rarely got my 18 months older brother to play with me. His style of play and mine didn’t tend to mix well except on certain weekend mornings when while our parents sleep, we placed ourselves where the chair fit under the desk in the guest room. As best I can tell I would then entertain my brother with stories about travel. Neither of us have any memory of the content of these stories, though the event has come down through memory called “grandfather and little boy.” No toys existed in this game. I think the desk once became a plane and I know one time it became an ocean liner. Even with repeated attempts the details remain hidden, though I can touch a sense of peace and excitement, recalling successfully engaging my brother’s attention. Our usual game consisted of me teasing him and he threatening to clobber me. We played that often.
Now if the belief holds strong that play belongs in childhood, left in the past, consider using a different language for what we intend to describe here. Translate this into other words; and see if a description opens up a world of this other type of experience.
Suggestion # x: In Other Words
Comment with other words::
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