When did we force play to become learning?
And I’m not just talking about the kids. I mean, all of us? Why can’t we just play?
Oh, I admit, this is probably a personal observational bias, but it seems more and more from what I read, and talking to other people—parents, friends and creative contemporaries—over the years the idea that anyone can just play for the raw enjoyment of something has turned into a pariah.
All too often I fall into the trap myself.
I feel like I can’t just sketch, but rather I need to be making something for my online portfolio.
I shouldn’t be playing music, instead I ought to be practicing repertoire or logging my progress.
Even just sitting here at a keyboard writing I am thinking not about the joy and fun that I get out of typing words, but rather my mind is always drifting over to content and audience and something bigger that I should be seeking from this act.
Of course, these invasive thoughts are at my own control, and maybe—lucky you—you are able to ignore them and just enjoy doing things for the sake of it. But then if you are the type of person to be reading a blog post that started with such a question maybe too you are like me and feel guilt from directionless creativity.
So I ask again: When did we force play to become learning? And how can we snap out of it?