Play is necessary for mental development. Dogs play-fight to hone their instincts and establish position in heirarchy. Rats with toys in their pens develop more mental resilience than rats that do not have such stimulation. And kids through play can learn cooperation, resilience, and fairness. Or not. What follows is a tale of two families.
A family – a mother and father with three sons. The eldest son was about ten – much older than either of his brothers. The middle child was about 4, and the youngest about two. The eldest played by himself a lot, but the 4 year old and the two year old played, sort of. The four year old hugged a ball close, and refused to let his younger brother play. When the younger brother would approach, he would hug the ball, walk a few steps, turn his head around, and say “No!” defiantly.
The mother then distracted the youngest son by taking him for a walk to the edge of the park. As they did this, the middle child got on a piece of equipment made to resemble rocking horse and rocked back and forth with gusto.
The younger son returned, and squealed with delight when he saw the ball from a distance, and walked toward it. The middle son, who had till now been enjoying his time on the rocking horse, said “No!” and picked up the ball before the youngest could reach it.
There were further maneuverings, continued obstinance from the middle child, cries of frustration from the youngest, and then the mother led the younger child off. I had the sense that it was a lost opportunity.
Projected into the future, the middle child could continue to be steeped in materialism, pursuing material things, without regard to the present-moment state of his enjoyment of them. Indeed, at no point was he actually playing with the ball, but he did interrupt his enjoyment to continue to possess the ball.
Not only that – it was a lost opportunity for the kids to learn cooperation. At no point were the kids playing with each other. The parents could have encouraged them to play with the ball together, and shown the way. What’s more, the father had an iPhone in his left hand the entire time. At one point, the eldest and the middle sons were on the swings (with the ball at the foot of the swings, unused, even as the youngest was protesting in frustration), and the father was pushing them with his right hand, as he held the iPhone a little to his side and behind himself.
At no point did the parents conference about what to do.
Contrast this to what I saw this morning in the same park.
7:00 this morning I woke, and walked the five minutes to a local park. It’s up on a hill behind Ebisu Garden Place. There, I washed my face, rinsed my mouth, and sat half-lotus in zazen meditation. While I was there, a father and his son came. The father would have been late 30’s and the son around 7 years old. I spent much of my meditation session watching them.
They brought three kickpads, and practiced karate. In a tone of playful imagination, the father coached the son, strapping the a kickpad to his forearm, and holding it at the side of his waist. “Kick! One, two, three!” And then they swapped positions. The son held his left arm up against his face, and the father kicked. As his son foundered, the father encouraged him. “It takes more strength to block that way. Close your armpit! Brace your elbow against your ribs! That’s it!” “Close your armpit!” After finishing practicing technique, they switched and the father held a different kickpad in the shape of a paddle in front of him, so the son could practice kicking through. The son pleaded. “I’m tired.”
“Come on, just a little bit. You’ll be alright!”
“No.”
“Right here, boy.”
“I’m tired.”
“That’s right, now kick!” The father said with forcefulness, and the boy started kicking. “Good!”
I was in wonder at how the father knew to push his son more.
The boy continued kicking for some time.
“Getting tired?” Said the father at length.
“Yeah.” Said the boy, ceasing to kick.
“That’s okay. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because your opponent is also tired! Your opponent is also tired, so keep going! Yeah!”
And the boy started to kick again with renewed energy. I thought it was a wonderful use of imagination.
“Ok! Last 30 seconds of the match! Hang in there!” The father counted, his voice tense with excitement. “1, 2, 3…” up to 30, and then cheered and congratulated his son. “Well done!”
Then, they switched, and the father started doing endurance kicks, breathing progressively harder, in a show of solidarity – he, too was training hard.
Kids learn and develop so quickly, and in terms of percentage of life span, a day for a 35-year-old adult is the equivalent of a week for a 5-year-old. Time perceptions are different. Every moment is a precious chance to teach.
