Such playing contains at the outset all the elements proper to play: order, tension, movements, change, solemnity, rhythm, rapture.
If […] we accept the essential and original identity of play and ritual we simply recognise the hallowed spot as a playground, and the misleading question of the “why and the wherefore” does not arise at all.**
Bob Stilger writes post-Fukushima, having helped Japanese people to find their future when more than 20,000 lost their lives and 500,000 lost their homes and livelihoods. Working as a conversation facilitator, he refers to these conversations as “sacred spaces” and further catches my attention when he writes:
‘Thinking and reasoning and analysing are important but they rarely provide direction. In fact, they need direction. And direction has to come from our senses. When everything falls apart, we must invite our hands and our heart and our spirit to come out and play, and ask your analytical minds to wait. Where is forward? How do we proceed?’*
This opening up of play with the sacred and sacredness with play can bring into view the adjacent possible, otherwise it can remain invisible:
‘The “adjacent possible” is theoretical biologist Stuart Kauffman’s wonderful term for all the myriad paths unlocked by every novel discovery, the multitude of universes hidden inside something as simple as an idea.’^
For me adjacent possibilities exist within the life of each person. If they want to choose a different path, their talents, passions and experiences can show them where within the sacredness and playfulness of a human life.
For the future, we need to look within.