This month we’ve been swimming in the waters of Queen of Cups (aka Water of Water)—exploring creative nourishment and deep imaginal realms. In this creative amniotic fluid we’ve also been playing with the concept of time—first by expanding it (slow down to create time) and then by remembering it’s trickster cyclical nature.
And now we are being invited to make believe.
When I first saw this card I thought, “I don’t play pretend anymore” … but then I realized, that’s not true. I just hide it now (more on that in a second.)
Sometimes I think the expectation that we “grow up”—or rather, what that has come to mean—is a travesty. Actually often I think that.
To see my five year old son playing? It’s a wonder.
He does it openly, around people—and without an ounce of shame. He doesn’t care who hears or sees. And why should he? Children are not only allowed to play—they’re encouraged to.
I too played openly once. I was always playing. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, I was enacting some sort of story in my mind. I would wear my homemade Star Trek uniform to the grocery store, imagining I was on a mission in a far off galaxy.
I would wear a long skirt to visit a historical site and on the train, pretend I lived in another time. I would kiss my bunkbed post, dreaming it was a handsome suitor.
I would drink my cereal milk and imagine it was fresh goat milk, just like Heidi drank in the Swiss Alps.
Heidi, Disney, 1993
I would lay in my bed and see images—stories I would write down later.
I don’t really remember when I stopped playing openly. I am sure the process was slow, a gradual realization that “growing up” meant not doing foolish, childish things like playing anymore.
I think it’s easy to say “creativity is play.”
But the truth is, many of us don’t really know how anymore. Or we have disguised our play with “acceptable activities.”
I still have imaginary conversations all the time. I pretend I’m being interviewed or that I’m in an interesting scenario, or meeting an artist I’ve always admired and telling them what they mean to me. I put my AirPods in so everyone will just think I’m on the phone. I’m playing in plain sight—and it didn’t even dawn on me that’s what I’ve been doing, till I sat down to write this post.
But I think there are lots of other ways we make believe—ways that play is disguised and acceptable as an adult. We play videogames.
We dress up for weddings and other fancy events. We play sports. We play board games. We dance. We perform in community plays. We make TikTok videos and Instagram Reels.
I think we play a lot more than we realize…but I wonder what it would be like if we named it such?
For full transparency: I say this as a person who gets embarrassed very easily, and who would be mortified if anyone ever walked in on me pretending to be interviewed on a podcast (rightly or not!)
Everything I’m writing right now: these are emergent ideas for me. I am still negotiating my own relationship to play.
But I do wonder.
Is play another portal to time magic? Can play transport us to new realities, new timelines?
What would happen if we played make believe more often, more consciously, more on purpose?
I wonder.
And: “make believe.”
What is it to make believe?
I am also thinking: writing is make believe (we use words to conjure new realities.) Painting is make believe (we use color and paint to conjure imaginal realms.) Drawing is make believe (we use line and shading to conjure possibility.) Music is make believe (we use sound to conjure abstract emotion.) And on. And on.
What if our creativity is make believe?
What if, through our art, we can make ourselves believe in a beautiful world?
What if, through our art, we can make others believe in infinite possibility as well?
Do you believe?
Can you make believe?
This week, I dare you to give it a try.
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Until next week.
Stay weird,
Lisa