Dog days and play
Do you remember how to play? Now that the sun has finally reappeared and school is finishing up for the kids, it’s time to reconnect with wonder and aimlessness. As I’ve been out riding my bike the last few weeks, I’ve been marvelling at how much fun it is to go places without a purpose, other than to appreciate how beautiful everything looks and smells at this time of year. I’d love to recommend the portion of Queensville side road that is lined with lilacs and pretty blue wildflowers, or the section of Catering Road that feels like a sacred grove and then opens onto fields, farms and a stunning view of Lake Simcoe. Riding with some girlfriends last week we decided that it’s the closest thing to the feeling of flying that you don’t need money to buy. Once you have a bike all you need is the time to go out and enjoy it.
According to Wikipedia, the dog days of summer are the sultry, hot days that correspond with the period that Sirius (the Dog Star) rises at the same time as the sun. The time frame differs from one account to another, but generally the dates are between July 3rd and August 11th. When I think about the dog days what usually comes to mind is heat, lethargy and inactivity. I daydream about being a child again, when the play of summer days stretched out forever and I could spend half an hour hanging upside down by my ankles from the swing set in an ersatz shoulder stand with a towel over my face. I used to love the way the towel refracted the sunlight into a rainbow of different colours, and if I squinted just right, I could create sun-dogs in the spaces between the fibres. (You need a worn-out beach towel for this to work, just in case you wanted to try it…and you don’t have to be hanging from your ankles).
We didn’t do much during the summer when I was a kid. I think the highlights were making popsicles, climbing trees, and the occasional swim in the Tottenham pond, which was populated with a wide variety of other swimming things (guppies, tadpoles, turtles, and miscellany). I also used to love walking around the house carrying my Mom’s hand-held mirror and pretending I was walking on the ceiling. My point, and it’s taking a while to get to it, is that doing nothing is really a lost art, and one that can be quite joyful.
Now that the weather is pleasant, there’s a lot to be said for finding a shady tree or a dock and just sitting. For many, sitting still feels a little sinful, unless we’re socializing or entertaining. But there can be so much pleasure in it. Sitting and noticing and taking in whatever is going by can be delightful, and also free of charge. Personally, I’m very fond of sitting in trees. I’m not so confident about climbing them these days, but two years ago my husband surprised me by secretly re-building a decrepit tree-house in our back yard, so I can retreat out there to my heart’s delight. The only thing that makes it even better is the chorus of frogs that come out to sing at night, and of course, fireflies!
Most adults, and I include myself in this statement, have forgotten how to play. We have a hard time engaging in anything that doesn’t have a purpose, unless it’s sitting on the couch watching television. We often struggle with being still, especially in Savasana (corpse pose), because it is precisely about doing nothing, and many of us seem to go into crisis mode when asked to play dead. Our fragile egos don’t like to take a back seat. That’s where children have great advantages: they’re still loose enough in their identities to be able to transit in and out of roles, and they’re able to forget about “what comes next” and just focus on whatever is interesting in the now. If you’re lucky enough to have young children in your life they can remind you about how to play. If you’re not, you might need a little practice. The good news is, that if you give yourself a little time and space to do it, chances are it will come right back. And if you’re not having any luck, the towel thing is kinda fun.
