One evening my daughter said, “why is your face like this?” She squinted her eyes and smooshed her cheeks and put a slight frown on her lips. “Daddy is serious,” she said in a deep voice. I cracked up and felt a twinge of truth bubble up. It was evening, the time to be playing with her. And I was thinking about
work,
or finances,
or problems in the world.
Kids don’t like grumpy people. Kids don’t care how important you are. They adore silliness and warmth. You can be their friend if you have an imagination and can enter their world of play.
But it’s not just kids.
Nobody likes people who take the world too seriously. We tolerate them. Maybe we like what they produce. But we don’t enjoy them.
Why do we put such an importance on hustling and producing and achieving?
I love Shark Tank. Like all of us, I have a billion-dollar idea deep within me, if I could get the chance to pitch it. Mine’s called the “Popcorn Ball.” It combats the global crises at the movie theater (remember those?!) when the butter only soaks the top kernels. How many people die each year from dry popcorn? It’s a real problem.
For $100, you can have a 5% stake in my company.
On this show, there is an obsession with hustling.
“Nobody works harder than me.”
“My life is this product.”
“I don’t sleep, or eat, I only work on this business.”
And we’re supposed to clap for that? You don’t sleep or eat? Those things feel important. You don’t have a life, other than this product? What kind of life is that?
I value hard work. Of course, there are seasons where you have to buckle down and get something off the ground.
But as we increase the value of hustling, we decrease the value of being human. As we celebrate producing, we diminish being.
How Much I Produce = How Much I Am Valued.
How do we prove our value? We show it by what we have made and achieved. I am valuable because I have accumulated these things. Look at this business or nonprofit or network that I’ve created.
We tie our value to production. Those who produce less, have less value in our society.
And we scratch and claw and hustle, trying to prove our worth. The problem is, you can always do more. It’s a never-ending game. You never have done enough.
Here’s the bigger problem: at the end of our lives we realize that the production didn’t make our lives fulfilling. What was all the stress for? All the striving? All the hustling?
Machines Don’t Play, Humans Do.
A couple of weeks ago, my kids built a pirate ship with cardboard boxes. It had a bridge and a window and a steering wheel. Johnny Depp and all his jewelry would be proud. As I watched them create and imagine, it brought me joy. Nothing else mattered. They were present in the moment. Each time they fit a new piece together or came up with a new idea, the joy was clear. They collaborated, not worrying about who was right or wrong but just wanting the ship to get better. They forgot I was watching; as they went on missions and talked in pirate voices.
They were being fully kid. Fully human.
This ship would never sail. They produced nothing. In fact, they made quite a mess in the garage.
Here’s the deal: It was not productive. But somehow, it was the most important thing in the world.
We get this as kids. Kids are developing and learning and aren’t ready for responsibility or bills. But then we grow out of it and take life seriously.
Emails.
Deadlines.
Achievements.
Are we missing something about being human?
In his book, “Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination, and Invigorates the Soul,” Stuart Brown says this:
“When we play, we are engaged in the purest expression of our humanity, the truest expression of our individuality. Is it any wonder that often the times we feel most alive, those that make up our best memories, are moments of play?”
Now that they are gone, these are the memories I cherish of my dad, grandpa, and uncle:
- Baseball with my dad and his knuckleball that was so hard to hit.
- On the boat with my grandpa, getting excited for each catfish.
- Goofy fantasy football with my uncle, as we smack-talked each other.
They were hard-workers. They produced great things, but that’s not what made them human or what I remember.
Are your eyes and goals set on profiting the world? What if you lose your soul in the process?
Play Reminds Us We Have Inherent Value.
Do you ever feel guilty on a day off? Are you drawn back to the emails or the need to fix a problem? Is this an addiction or a habit? Sure. But it’s also a sense that doing this work is what makes you important.
When I watch the joy in my kids’ faces as they imagine and laugh, I am filled with thankfulness and love. They don’t have to accomplish anything or prove anything to me. Just being alive and full of joy, it’s enough.
What if you are enough? Even when you are not accomplishing or producing, you are vital and valuable. You have inherent value, just from being alive.
What if the most important thing on this day is to immerse in play? Maybe it’s time to stop hustling and start playing.
Get lost in silliness. Do something that makes you feel alive and like a kid again.
Stop producing for a moment and start being a human.
