Join In Their World
Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.
I picked up my six-year-old son from school a few days ago. Rain was starting to fall and as we drove home the raindrops spread across the windshield and ran in horizontal lines across the side glass. I watched my son out of the corner of my eye as he traced the lines in the water on the inside of the glass with his finger. I listened as he talked to the droplets and it was clear he was lost in imaginary play. I tried to listen carefully so I could gather clues to what he was seeing in his mind and when I thought I knew what he was doing, I commented.
"Those water drops are like racecars, aren't they Benjamin?" I said.
"Yeah. They are going really fast and crashing into each other," he answered, never taking his eyes off the colliding water droplets.
He readily allowed me into his imaginary world as we talked about the "racecars" on the window and which one would win. It is difficult sometimes, even though I work in the world of children almost every day, to remember to join them in their imaginary worlds. More often than not, we require them to join us in ours. Children are required to dress, eat, sit, stand, and even play when and where we command. Some schools have even abandoned total free play during recess, instead creating organized games that the children must then engage. They are forced to abandon their imaginary worlds for one that is more comfortable to adults.
We adults spend most of our time in busy adult worlds and we may assume that our world is the better place to be. Yet, when was the last time you played in a sandbox, made up a story, or created something with Play Dough? It can be fun! I try to do this regularly, both with my clients and with my own children. For example, my son got two sets of plastic Army helmets and miscellaneous Army gear for Christmas. Numerous times we have donned our gear and played army in the woods around our home. He is always the leader as we stalk imaginary enemies and evade make-believe booby traps and ambushes. I look ridiculous wearing the child-size helmet and carrying a plastic radio and compass. People who live on my road must wonder about this 42-year-old man leaping across the road (our imaginary river) into our neighbor's woods, but I know it is all very exciting to my son. He can't get enough of it. Seeing him immersed in his fantasy is exciting for me, too.
Children need structure in their lives, of course, and if they did nothing except play make-believe games they would never learn to read, write, do math, or learn to engage in the "real" world. However, children also need to play because it is the one thing in their lives over which they have total control. They can be anything they want, go anywhere or do anything. Take a trip into your child's imaginary world and you may be surprised how much your child will engage with you. It is comfortable to them, like having a guest into one's own home. They are at ease with what they know.
So why wouldn't we want to play in a child's world. Several reasons are evident to me. One reason is we are simply too busy to engage with them. We are occupied with our own lives or we just don't think about it. Another reason is we don't want to. It takes effort to play a child's game and we don't want to look silly. Grownup games seem more fun to us (until you've learned to play like a child). Likewise, our children sometimes have too much stuff going on to have time for us to play with them. Soccer games, scouts, schoolwork, television, and video games all monopolize their time. Why use your imagination if the work can be done for you? Finally, some parents don't play because they don't know how. They have lost the ability to play because they are out of practice. But you can relearn your natural ability to play and use your imagination by simply putting your schedule away and letting go of your inhibitions. Your child will appreciate you for it. I can hear my son twenty years from now telling his own son how he and I used to play army together in our woods. That will be exceptionally satisfying.