By: Bob Zeglovitch
During our recent sessions, we have suggested the incorporation of a sense of play in our dharma practice. In Deep Play, Diane Ackerman states that “as a reservoir of deep play, games, sports, religion and art have much in common, and may even be interchangeable.” At our last session, I read the following quote from the Dutch cultural historian Johan Huizinga’s book Homo Ludens:
Play. It is an activity which proceeds within certain limits of time and space, in a visible order, according to rules freely accepted, and outside the sphere of necessity or material utility. The play-mood is one of rapture and enthusiasm, and is sacred or festive in accordance with the occasion. A feeling of exaltation and tension accompanies the action.
This reminds me of meditation practice. We sit down in a certain place for a certain time period, for no particular utility, and of our own choice. There is a certain order to what we are doing, in that we have a “practice” or set of rules that we choose to accept for the duration of our session (although we may promptly find ourselves deviating from those “rules”!). There is a sacredness to our efforts, and while we may not always experience rapture or exaltation, that is certainly one possibility.
If we take our meditation and broader dharma practice too seriously, we can become dry and pretentious. This drains our energy and joy rather than serving as a wellspring for enthusiasm, curiosity and happiness. What might happen if we were to regularly approach our formal practice (and the rest of our life) with a spirit of play? Play calls forth freedom, responsiveness, creativity, vitality, alertness, and joy. Perhaps we might take some risks, try new approaches, and be creative with practices both old and new to us. We might not be so concerned about “failing” and be willing to allow ourselves to become unstuck from habitual patterns. It seems to me that this is a particularly helpful attitude to try out when it comes to meeting the hindrances, as they can have a heavy and somewhat oppressive quality.
There will certainly be times when play may not seem available, or even appropriate. We face serious difficulties in life and in practice. But, even in challenging times we can check to see if there is an opportunity to play.
Tsoknyi Rinpoche, a prominent modern Tibetan Buddhist teacher, gave this beautiful response to a question about how playfulness influences his practice and how it offers a way out of the trappings of the self:
Nature is very playful. In nature, everything is playing: trees, wind, mountains. But reification makes everything frozen. When we’re in this frozen state, then we can’t laugh at ourselves. There’s no humor. Meditation helps us cultivate a sense of openness so that we become less frozen and less fixed in our sense of self. Then we can let everything come and go. Everything—thoughts, emotions, phenomena, beautiful monsters—arises from openness, and then dissolves. When we observe this, humor is the natural response.
When his questioner noted the practice is nevertheless very serious, Tsoknyi Rinpoche responded: “It’s serious, but that doesn’t mean we need to take it so seriously. We need a light touch. With a light touch we can learn to let go. And that’s how we find freedom and liberation. That’s how we break free from samsara.” (Tricycle, Winter 2022)