What A Difference A Play Makes


My son has a such a talent. He does it naturally. He does it skillfully. He commits to it heart and soul. In fact he could make a serious career out of it.

Play that is. A prized art I unlearned by degrees whilst graduating from the school of Misery. Alcohol and its inumerable ‘isms’ had stripped me of my ‘Play’ Levels and replaced them with ‘Low’ Levels.

Fear ruled my thoughts, obsession calculated my behaviour and desperation had lectured my nerves till the very sound of fun resembled nails down a blackboard.

I enrolled in Sobriety with a vocabulary drowned by years of hiding in a bottle and an attitude of arrogance only the perpetually terrified can truly carry off. My inner child had been in detention for an eternity and, like a prisoner, she felt safe in her state of lockdown. The world of fun was far too frightening a place to venture.

But like the best teachers, Sobriety had a method of encouraging that terrified, small soul to tentatively enter the playground. Step by step gently planting the seeds of positivity until, without realising it, the tables had turned and up she sprouted, dare i say it, ‘Playfullness’!!!

Pure unadulterated, unexpected, unbounded playfullness. She ebbs and she flows, she waxes and she wanes but shes there. I recognised her like an old schoolfriend. We were aware of each others existence but hadn’t had true contact in years.

Catching up has been a blast. We go everywhere together, bounce off each other, she’s taught me so much about myself. I recently introduced her to my son. Turns out they were old friends already.



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