Why so serious? All about play…
If you asked any of my close friends, they would tell you I’m not a singer. They have probably never heard me carry a tune, ever.
I, like many people, was told I couldn’t sing at school and spent the rest of my life miming or silent, avoiding karaoke or campfire singsongs. I told myself the story of ‘can’t’ for a long time.
But if you ask my partner he would say, Carys has a song for everything. Somehow, both of these things are true.
It’s all about safety and play
First of all, I hope you have someone, whether human, animal, vegetable or mineral who you can sing to or with, in complete abandon. Voice is important. At some point as children all of our screaming and exclamatory instincts are quashed as we are told to be quiet and good. To grow up. Women especially, too often, have been silenced, removing our relationship with the power and joy of making noise.
I say making noise, because it’s not about singing well or doing anything for anyone other than yourself.
What’s this got to do with writing?
A lot. Quite often we are unconsciously censoring out writing. Subjects that may feel too big, too risky or taboo are sidelined. Or perhaps addressed indirectly or obliquely. The assumption is that someone else will see our writing and judge it. The censor for quality and content becomes automatic.
Playing with words and sound
I’d love to offer an experiment here. Can you take five minutes today, right now if possible, to play?
If that thought makes you tense, makes you think you can’t spare the time, or makes you wonder who is in the house, who’s watching, what will they think? It’s ok. We all censor ourselves. We have internalised capitalism telling us that unless it is productive, useful or serious stuff, then we’d be wasting our time.
Yet play brings us real joy. It also reduces stress and can connect us to ourselves, creativity and, if we’re lucky, to others. So why not give it a try?
Could you do one of the following for five minutes:
Find a safe space and make some noise. Any noise. Whatever comes out. A scream, a shout, a word. Can you give yourself permission to play with the feeling - using loud and quiet, high and low, whatever comes up for you, for a few minutes?
Choose a word. Make a rhyme. How many silly rhymes can you make? What joy is there in the repetition and rhythm, the volume, pitch and tone? Does it make you want to write it down, draw around it - follow the feeling for five minutes.
Doodle. Draw whatever you want for five minutes. For pure curiosity, joy, etc. No plan, no showing it to anyone. Just something to make yourself smile.
Put a song on and dance. Move your body - not to be looked at - but following the sensations and impulses that come up. Do whatever feels good. Close your eyes (safely) if you need to.
How do you feel after that? There’s no right or wrong answer.
Perhaps you can’t do it right now and you might come back to this later. That’s fine. Five minutes. Give yourself just five minutes and see what comes up.
If you have time, make a note of any self-criticism, embarrassment or judgement that arises. And on the opposite end, make a note of any delight, joy and inspiration. This is only for you. There’s no right way to do it. We’re just playing.
Things to try:
What gave you joy when you were younger? What activities made hours pass like seconds? What games did you love? Choose one and spend some time doing it this week.
List ten things you would never write about. Choose one of them, set a timer for ten minutes and write something. Don’t show it to anyone.
Imagine your younger self, look at a photo if that helps, now write something to make them laugh.
Choose an inanimate object in your space and write a song / ode to it, the sillier the better.
Things to reflect on:
If you had more time, what would you do to bring yourself joy?
If no one was watching, what would you do to make yourself smile?