Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Dear God,

I planned to play in the leaves yesterday. I actually put rakes in my car so I could use them to make a huge pile of leaves. Then I envisioned taking a running leap, lunging my whole body into the colorful leavings. Now, I hadn't intended to enjoy this activity alone. A couple friends were going to join me. Actually it was a counselling technique, using play to lead to a deeper emotional arena. It didn't work out. The person needing some help couldn't leave the comforts of the known and familiar.

I remember several years ago when our covenant group held a three day retreat. Our topic was "play." Since it is true that many pastors do not know how to play once they move into a parish, we decided this would be a good area of study. So each of us thought of an activity or two where we could play like children.

It was Fall so one of us thought pumpkin carving would be fun, naming our orange ball in a special ceremony, then all of us singing our favorite song at the same time. We laughed until we nearly fell over.

Another activity was playing in the leaves. Our friend and colleague had never played in the leaves; but most of his 50 years he had thought about doing it, but never given himself permission to do so. So we raked the leaves around the rented home and piled them high. You could just see the anticipation growing on our friend's face. When the heap was just right, he took off running, then vaulted himself into the accumulated mass. He rolled to the right and left, until he was too tired to do anything more. That's when we joined him. We played and played. When we finally ended the activity we had so many leaves in our clothes and hair.

We still remember that retreat. About this time every year we recall it, still smiling from our ability to return, to give in to childhood desires. And we still laugh like crazy when we remember the pumpkins.

Play is an incredible experience. Setting one's self free to engage in the ridiculous is healing, fun, whole, and holy. That's why we did another retreat on the same subject a few years later, this time blowing bubbles, making sidewalk chalk pictures and sitting in a stream building a rock altar at Turkey Run State Park.

I can't begin to share the value of play. To return to the delights of childhood is to return to the soul. It cleanses, restores, makes whole what is broken. And why not? Society as a whole may look down on adults acting like children. But what we discovered is that it brings joy to others around. In their eyes you can see the joy and the desire to play themselves. How fun it would have been had they decided to join us. But alas, they were not free to do so.

When the soul is open to the spontaneous moment, God can do wonders. Emotional freedom is so unbelievably tangible that joy can erupt like a fountain and healing can do its restorative work. It's "God in the moment." I like it, no, I love it!

The inner child never grow up,
thank God.
Our childish glee is a heavenly gift.
To return to this child
is to return to one's soul.
A uniting of mind and soul,
body and spirit
is to be wholly together
and this wholeness
can lead to the holy,
every time.
And what spectacular beauty,
God's own!
Fall is a time for remembering,
days, hours, minutes, seconds
savoring the joys of life
in the midst of change and transition.
With our God.

Love always, Andrea