Go Play

For four days running, I have participated in some form of sport-type physical activity and it has been wonderful -- not simply in that they were enjoyable experiences, but that the action's reaction has resulted in me 1) sleeping better, and 2) looking at the world through a lens of optimism and pleasure. On Friday, after class, I played frisbee in the park. On Saturday I went to Columbia and played wiffle ball. On Sunday, I pulled out my baseball glove and played catch, and yesterday, Monday, I participated in an all-out sport's night of sorts, including Ultimate Frisbee, soccer, and baseball. For two nights in a row I've gotten a full eight hours of sleep, more or less.

With the warming weather the atmosphere around campus is much more college-like, and I like that my mind combines the world feeling "college-like" and "spring-like" into one globby mass. They are two goods things to be mixed up in each other. College, to me, is impromptu everything. Impromptu soccer games. Impromptu video game duels. Impromptu debates. Impromptu meals. Impromptu everything. Spring has, for some reason, brought out the best of all of these. Recreation is running rampant in the streets.

Generally, I've thought of recreational activities as indulgences, which drew time away from more important, noble pursuits, but, lately, I tend to view recreation as, at worst, a necessary evil and, at best, a necessary joy. For years I've been able to confront my guilt towards recreation by justifying the watching of movies, reading of comic books, and even, at times, indulging in television as useful in the development of storytelling, a craft I am most essentially lusting, but activities like wiffle ball and video games, for example -- those types of activities were harder to explain and the associated guilt reduced the pleasure of said activities dramatically. Now, I tend to justify them through their own practicality. My brain needs to rest, my muscles need to stretch, and, although some would argue that to be a successful writer once must be immersed in misery and stress, I, for the type of writing I wish to produce, desire happiness and comfort. This is an interesting change in philosophy.

So, go to it, O, guilty ones. Whip out those hacky sacks. Lace up your gym shoes. Find your frisbees. Rustle under your bed for those worn out baseballs. If you have to, buy a new soccer ball. The weather is fine and the season is right.

Go play!