“I’m so excited for first grade!” my six year old daughter delightedly shared as we walked up to her first day of school. Her bouncing gate felt like trying to hold a helium balloon in my hand. I lead her to her classroom, kissed her goodbye and watched as she was guided to sit in a circle and raise her hand to share with her new class.

At the end of the day my daughter looked less buoyant and reported that she was missing all the free-play opportunities from the year before in Kindergarten. As I assured my daughter that her year will be playful and fun, my mind traced back to the retreats I’d lead this summer.

Downriver Divas retreats provide the perfect setting for women to reconnect to their playful, silly joy!

Retreat guests feel safe, supported and ignited by one another’s unbridled joy! Play comes easily in a retreat setting on the river, but sometimes it doesn’t…

I’ve observed over the years, that some women are challenged to re-connect with the playful part of themselves.

On a recent trip, I experienced one woman’s challenge with “lifting the parameters off of play.”

We had arrived in camp where a crew of us didn’t think twice to remove our sweaty clothes, grab a beer and dive into a deep, green eddy as soon as our feet hit the sand.

Some guests, on the other hand, get busy on shore, setting up their tarps and organizing camp gear before indulging in a famed “nipple beer” in the cold water. I’ve always honored the personal preference of diving in or getting settled and haven’t thought to question the thought process behind one choice over another.

Then one guest, who had been laying out her tarp and sleeping bag, preparing for the evening, became triggered by the awareness that she felt she had to “earn” her play. Being a deep and thoughtful soul, this woman chose to share what was coming up for her.

“I feel like I’m supposed to get my work done before I can play,” she shared with tear-filled words of vulnerability. She lay her head on my shoulder and we both grieved the feeling that this beautiful, dear woman had been holding onto for a long time. She is a woman who has been charging ahead in her professional field for years, attaining amazing positions and a PHD. While toiling to connect to the next rung of success in her life — this striving guest lost a sense of how to connect to spontaneous play.

“Play always comes first on river retreats,” I shared with my friend on the sandy shore, beneath a hot afternoon sun. But really, play should be more important than work EVERYWHERE! Why do we succumb to the deep undertow of a belief that we must earn the right to play – it feels like an old Puritan ethic that does not serve anyone anymore.

I struggle to see giddy, wiggly kids urged to stand in straight lines and control their bodies, rather than engage in imaginative play or expressive movement. Even my daughter’s sweet school, known for its experiential and student-directed learning, has a higher dose of analytical thinking activities over creative and artistic play on a given day.

Unfortunately, I think school is one environment where we begin to inherit the cultural misbelief that there are parameters around play. Recess is the place to let loose and if you giggle too loud, or act silly in class, you might get in trouble. Children learn to associate feelings of shame with their desire to play.   Instead of learning to listen to their bodies, children are urged to suppress desires to move, play and make one another laugh.  The fear of authentic expression and play can continue on throughout a lifetime, if you don’t choose to interrupt the conditioning.

When my daughter’s reflection of school reminded me of the brave retreat guest who identified her fear of “playing outside the lines”, I bravely offered to home-school my daughter.

“Thanks mom, but I love the kids in my class,” she replied. Secretly, I breathed a sigh of relief. I did vow to listen to her when she wants to play and as I write, she is singing softly, while she creates a magical world among pillows and stuffed animals she’s assembled on the floor

– and we’re going into school late, because I want her to know that, play is more important than work.