In Defense of Play
(Originally posted to Path With Heart Therapy)
This week, my supervisor told me to play.
My first thought was: What?
Followed quickly by: I don’t know what that is…
My rollercoaster days are long behind me, and my “silliness” muscle has seriously atrophied. Most of my time goes to learning, childcare, reflection, and—let’s be honest—chores. (So many chores!) But play? That bucket feels bone dry.
So I asked myself: When did I stop playing?
It’s a simple question, yet even as I write this, I feel resistance. I can do creativity. I can do slowing down. But play? Skipping, face-painting, reckless delight, and wild imagination—that hasn’t been me in years.
And I don’t think I’m alone in that.
The truth is, many of us have lost our relationship to play. Part of it is what I call the adult tax– all the ‘doing’ that has to happen because bills, aging, responsibilities, and taxes are- in fact- real. But if we’re being honest, another part (perhaps, even the more dominant part) is the state of our nervous systems. When we’re constantly activated, our bodies shift into protection mode—and play doesn’t live there. With chronic activation, we simply don’t have the capacity to play.
Before I lose you, I get it. There is serious stuff going on. We need to pay attention. Mobilization is necessary… until it burns us out and we become stuck– angry, anxious, and ineffective. That is what chronic stress and hypervigilance does; it keeps us from learning, integrating, and connecting.
So what do we do? Like Portland has been showing us these past weeks (and always), we answer activation with mobilization and play. Because, here’s the twist: Play is often the exact thing that helps us move out of hyper-activation and back into connection.
Play lives within our window of tolerance—the zone where we’re activated and mobilized, but still curious and connected. Play lives at the edges of our social engagement system, what neurobiology calls the ventral vagal state. And remember: activation itself isn’t the problem. The issue is activation without connection or effective mobilization; in one sense, activation without play.
Another example:
My son struggles with being alone. Most of the time, if he can’t find us in the house, he panics and yells (hello, protection brain!). But when he’s playing hide-and-seek, something shifts. The aloneness becomes part of a game. The rules are different. He can tolerate that uncomfortable feeling because the context—the play—is holding him. Joy and shared connection buffer his rising activation. His feelings are still there, but now he has the co-regulation of the game to help him move through them.
Even better: the more we play, the more his body begins to associate co-regulation with the wave of fear he feels—and this actually increases his window of tolerance. It won’t erase his fear. It won’t make him love being alone. But it will give him a little more space inside before the fear overwhelms his system.
I don’t know about you, but I think we all could use a little more space.
Put simply: Play meets nervous system activation with social engagement. This pairing expands our capacity to stay connected under stress and helps us complete the stress cycle—so we’re not left stuck in it or further withdrawn or shut down.
In this light, play isn’t indulgent. Play might actually be the medicine.
We need play more than ever—not because life isn’t serious, but because it is. Play brings levity into moments that might otherwise lock us into defense. Our brains do not function well in protection mode. When we are in protection mode, we lose curiosity, innovation, connection and compassion; it’s hard to solve a problem or heal without these qualities. To quote one of my perennial teachers, Ram Dass: “If you don’t have a sense of humor, it just isn’t funny.” In other words, if we cannot find levity, it becomes too heavy to do the hard things.
There’s time for indignation. There’s time for activation. But there must also be time to play. We simply do not heal in a protective state.
We do not grow in an activated state either.
One thing I often tell the families I work with is that: a playing brain is a learning brain. Neurobiology backs this up. When activation meets connection—aka, play—we increase our capacity to tolerate distress, make meaning, and self-regulate.
Sounds like play might be *exactly* what the doctor ordered. Ready to find out more? Let’s connect.
If you are curious about how our mental health therapy approach can support your mental and emotional health (or that of a loved one), you can book a cost-free, 15-minute Consultation with Jamie.
Jamie Van Auken, MA, Registered Marriage and Family Therapist Associate, E-RYT 500
Jamie is a nervous system-forward Registered Marriage and Family Therapist Associate who believes in bringing together the wisdom of the body with evidence-based therapeutic modalities to support genuine, sustainable transformation.
