Ralph Waldo Emerson says, It is a happy talent to know how to play. And, it is a talent that I must recover. Today, begins the summer break for my children. Needless to say, we are excited. I love that I do not have to be up at a certain time, that I can make lunch when I feel like it, and sit on my porch in my wooden rocking chair, and drink peach iced tea. And on my list,  I am going to learn how to play. Really play. I am not a great player. When I play, I can tend to feel a diminished sense of self worth. The voices creep in, Jenny, you should be checking email. Jenny, your toilet is disgusting, go clean it. Jenny, make dinner. Jenny, go out in the garden. Jenny, damn it, be productive. Ugh. I need to play.

Today, Lizzie asked me while I was stirring red chile sauce, Mommy, will you sit down and play with me, as purple flubber dripped through her fingers and onto the kitchen table. At first, I said, Lizzie, I can't. We are having someone over for dinner, and I need to make the beans, and I need to clean up and blah..blah...blah. Then, thankfully, my heart urged me to sit my butt down and play. So, I did. I pulled out the play dough and starting rolling it out and cutting out animal figures. Then, believe it or not, I started creating a story. I picked up the pink play dough horse and galloped her over to Lizzie and in a neighing high pitched voice I said, "Hi Lizzie, where is my friend ducky?" Then Lizzie pointed to the pink ducky in front of me and I galloped the horse over to her friend ducky. This continued with cut-out elephants, airplanes, boats and worms. At one point, the duck, the horse, the airplane and boat were all napping together, stuck on the kitchen table. And I zoomed a car by them and Lizzie said, "Mom, shhhh, be quiet, you will wake them up."  When we were done with the moon sand and clay, we moved to the piano. And, I taught my daughter how to play Old MacDonald. She was so proud. I watched her as she plunked down each key with her little fingers, with dirt under her nails. When she finished, she looked at me with a smile. And then she said, Mom, when you are dead, I am going to miss you so much.  I said back to her, I will miss you too, Lizzie. And then I asked, When do you think that might happen?. Not for a long, long time, she said. I love how my Lizzie expresses her gratitude and affection; that was her way of saying, Thanks for playing with me Mom.

My five year old is teaching me how to play; teaching me how to get my hands dirty and to get lost in a story. And, most importantly, she is teaching me that playing and enjoying one's life, is as much a teacher as the suffering that we live with throughout our beautiful lives.