Written by: Kristen Antonio, Executive Contributor
Executive Contributors at Brainz Magazine are handpicked and invited to contribute because of their knowledge and valuable insight within their area of expertise.
Have you ever observed a child in deep, imaginative play? My children are currently 5 and 3 years old; actively in the psychosocial stage of developing their autonomy and asserting their personal power and control over the world through directing play. As a child and adolescent therapist, my academic brain knows the importance of play for opening up a child’s capacity for interpersonal skills, emotional regulation, and develop a sense of security in both leading and following others. As a parent therefore, I approached this stage of development with my children in a way that reflected this knowledge and belief in the power of play.
I fastidiously got to work, setting up my home in ways that I thought would be supportive of imaginatory play. I organized bins of various toys for sensory play; I made sure books and crafts and artwork were all positioned at eye level for their little bodies; I created cozy nooks with pillows and tents to encourage settling play. And after all this preparation, I sent my children to go off and play. Only they didn’t. They still clamored all over me. Why weren’t they playing independently and in their alternate worlds? What was I missing? Where was I failing?
The wisdom was found in the questions I was asking myself, as these questions directed me to an important self-discovery and opportunity for healing: I came to realize was that my perfectionist preparation and toy-bin-organization system was actually a defense mechanism that was mobilized into action because I felt inadequate in my own ability to play. This was a bizarre and uncomfortable moment of radical self-acceptance for me, as I’ve always identified myself as a creative and artistic person. Now of course, I can move a horse figurine around a red barn and say, “neigh” a few times. And I can pretend to feed a baby doll or make a fort out of couch cushions. But as I investigated this theory more, I noticed that I never allowed myself to sink deep into the alternate universe of imaginatory play where the outside world falls away, times slows, and reality shifts. When was the last time I actually held a fairy or flew in a spaceship to the moon? Somewhere along my own journey from childhood to adulthood, I had completely lost the capacity to feel experiences that were outside the bounds of this reality, but never-the-less real. So, I dug deeper with compassionate curiosity: What sensations did I notice in my body when I tried to access my imagination? What feelings came up when I joined my children on the floor? Here’s what I discovered: It takes a tremendous amount of physiological and psychological safety to be inside an imaginatory world. Our bodies must feel safe to allow our minds to leave one environment/reality and create an alternate one. Bodily trauma and cultural conditioning had taught my brain that it was not psychologically safe for me to completely immerse myself in the world in my mind, without having one foot firmly planted in the time and space of the physical space around me. I couldn’t fly to the moon in my mind because my body didn’t believe it was safe to do so. I had learned to keep some part of my brain tethered to the fact that I was in my kitchen, in a cardboard box that I had painted to look like a rocket ship. My brain had gotten stuck on the “hyper-vigilant” setting for so long, that I forgot how to imagine. I forgot how blissful it feels floating on a memory of a daydream. But as I observed my children set off on these magical adventures in their minds, a desire grew inside of me to rediscover my own capacity to access this World of Imagination.
At first, my play felt forced, unnatural, and awkward. The therapist part in me encouraged me to keep going, reminding me that I this is what it feels like to learn a new skill, build a new neurological pathway. I stuck with it. I continued to reassure this hypervigilant, reality-based protector part inside of me, that it was, in fact, safe for me to join my children in their alternate realities. And slowly, over many hours of “practiced” play, I began to notice a shift in my body. I began to feel excited to join them on the rug with a bin full of LEGOs and handful of sticks we had collected on a walk. What would we create? Where would we go? What trouble would we find ourselves in and how would we problem-solve our way out? I allowed my body the experience of safety, re-parenting my inner child alongside my own children. And this, dear reader,is the healing power of play.
So I asked you now; how will you play with today?
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Kristen Antonio, Executive Contributor Brainz Magazine
Kristen brings her rebel spirit to the mental health industry to challenge the status quo and expand our ways of healing, connecting, and being. As a dually licensed therapist, soul coach, entrepreneur and mother with bipolar disorder, Kristen’s lived experiences have taught her that healing begins when the scared, lonely parts in us can connect with the wisdom and nurturance of the soul’s Self Energy.
