Playland Dispatches: Recess for the Soul

I couldn’t tell you the last time I did something just because it was fun.

Not for fitness. Not for productivity. Not even for a “self-care win.” Just joy. For no reason. Like I used to at recess.

Back then, I didn’t need a to-do list, permission, or a reason. I’d sprint across the playground chasing after a crush or—with one shoelace untied—declare myself 'the best' as I jumped off the swings. I’d spend an entire 15 minutes pretending the cracks in the sidewalk were lava as I skipped along singing Miss Mary Mack. I played dodgeball and Red Rover. I sat in the fields and crafted crowns out of dandelions that were fit for royalty.

That was enough. More than enough. It was everything.

Somewhere along the way, I swapped hopscotch and giggles for worry and deeply furrowed brows. Even rest and basic self-care became items to schedule out.

This week, I decided to try something different.

I gave myself recess—grown-ass woman style. I laid on the grass and looked up at the clouds. I named the shapes out loud like I used to—a dog became a turtle, then morphed into a few shapeless blobs I couldn’t quite make out. It made me smile. And breathe a little deeper. I forgot about my to-do list for five whole minutes, which honestly felt like magic.

My inner teen also made an appearance this week—sweaty curls, sing-screaming at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down in the middle of a concert crowd. For a moment, I caught myself pulling back—looking around, feeling the urge to shrink, to be smaller, quieter, “less.” But then I closed my eyes, anchored myself in my breath, and reminded myself: it’s safe to be seen. It’s safe to have fun. I won’t get in trouble for feeling joy out loud!

There is something about this series that is waking up parts of me I hadn’t visited in a while. That girl who used to lose herself in music or clouds or dandelion crowns—she’s still in there—waiting. Not to be fixed or healed, but simply remembered. Waiting for a chance to come out of the box, make a beautiful mess, and laugh for no reason at all. I didn’t realize how much that younger version of me missed being included. She just wanted an invitation.

So, that’s what this week is about—not fixing anything. Not improving or hacking or healing. Just playing. Because maybe what your soul needs isn’t another task… maybe it just needs recess.

So, here’s your invitation:

Take a break. Pick something silly. Let it be low-stakes. Get weird. Get loud. Get your hands messy. You don’t have to share it. You don’t have to capture it. Just be in it.

I’ll also be posting my grown-up recess moments over on Instagram Stories (same handle), if you want to follow along or get inspired to start your own.

See you out there—somewhere between hopscotch and the clouds, where joy doesn’t need a reason and recess is always in session.

✨ Bonus: Want a little help getting started? I made a free “Inner Child Bingo”—print it, screenshot it, ignore the rules, whatever you like. It’s ridiculous and joyful and probably has something to do with bubbles. (You’ll find it at the bottom of this post or in your inbox if you're subscribed!)