Monday, August 26, 2002
Restoring Fun at Esalen
Thought I'd take this chance to share a story with you - about a shift in focus that resulted from a remarkable week of "Restoring Fun" at Esalen.
There were 19 of us. 17 seminarians, myself, and the remarkably playworthy Tom Weidenbach, father of Lily, husband of my only daughter Shael. Sad to say for Esalen, this was the largest group there - 9-11 continues to take its toll, even on the most healing of places. The people who came came for fun. So they were an already enlightened group - aware of the importance of fun in their lives, aware that there was more to learn about having and sharing more of it. For them, just the title of the workshop, "Restoring Fun," was enough to make them want to spend a whole week doing it - that, and the fact that we were at one of the most beautiful retreat centers in the world.
We played games. Lots, and lots of games. It's almost all we did. Well, we did talk a bit about fun and flow, but it was easily 90% fun. And despite my repeated gentle attempts to invite people to explore meditation games and the deeper, spiritual aspects of fun, it was the fun of it all, the silliness, the pointlessness that proved the most powerful, the most transformative, the most profoundly restoring.
We also played several theater games - something I hadn't done in 30 years - thanks to the most amazingly playful Tom, who, even though this was the first time he was exposed to my work, became, by session end, a genuine coleader.
The group, by the way, was wonderfully varied. Tom, at 29, was the youngest. The oldest were in their 70s. There was a doctor and a mayor and a dental hygienist. And everyone was beautiful.
We talked a lot about fun. We kept journals and made lists of things we did for fun. We talked about Csikszentmihalyi, of course, and the Fun Community, obviously. But the rest of the time, and, like I said, that's about 90% of the 26 hours we spent together, we played and played and played and were transformed. Despite the lack of apparent profundity, by the end of the session there was such an intense feeling of community, of caring, of loving, of a respite, of a restoration of the soul and body and the willingness to play and invite others to share in the fun - that everything I could have possibly hoped to accomplish with my meditation games and my discussions and examinations and deep reflections paled in comparison to what we were able to manifest together.
And what happened to me in all this was a bit of my own enlightenupment (yes, we did evoke the Frog thereof). I rediscovered the power of fun. And, consequently, rededicated myself and website to the just plain fun of it all.
So, if you happen to look at the homepage, you won't see any mention of Meditation Games. And if you happen to click on the "retreats" item in the menu, you won't see any mention of all the many kinds of retreats. What you'll see instead are the words "from 3 hours to 6 days of genuine, caring, open, freeing, empowering FUN" which apparently is what I'm all about, at last, once again.
All of which is to share with you a story of my renewed dedication to fun, and to invite you to your own.
There were 19 of us. 17 seminarians, myself, and the remarkably playworthy Tom Weidenbach, father of Lily, husband of my only daughter Shael. Sad to say for Esalen, this was the largest group there - 9-11 continues to take its toll, even on the most healing of places. The people who came came for fun. So they were an already enlightened group - aware of the importance of fun in their lives, aware that there was more to learn about having and sharing more of it. For them, just the title of the workshop, "Restoring Fun," was enough to make them want to spend a whole week doing it - that, and the fact that we were at one of the most beautiful retreat centers in the world.
We played games. Lots, and lots of games. It's almost all we did. Well, we did talk a bit about fun and flow, but it was easily 90% fun. And despite my repeated gentle attempts to invite people to explore meditation games and the deeper, spiritual aspects of fun, it was the fun of it all, the silliness, the pointlessness that proved the most powerful, the most transformative, the most profoundly restoring.
We also played several theater games - something I hadn't done in 30 years - thanks to the most amazingly playful Tom, who, even though this was the first time he was exposed to my work, became, by session end, a genuine coleader.
The group, by the way, was wonderfully varied. Tom, at 29, was the youngest. The oldest were in their 70s. There was a doctor and a mayor and a dental hygienist. And everyone was beautiful.
We talked a lot about fun. We kept journals and made lists of things we did for fun. We talked about Csikszentmihalyi, of course, and the Fun Community, obviously. But the rest of the time, and, like I said, that's about 90% of the 26 hours we spent together, we played and played and played and were transformed. Despite the lack of apparent profundity, by the end of the session there was such an intense feeling of community, of caring, of loving, of a respite, of a restoration of the soul and body and the willingness to play and invite others to share in the fun - that everything I could have possibly hoped to accomplish with my meditation games and my discussions and examinations and deep reflections paled in comparison to what we were able to manifest together.
And what happened to me in all this was a bit of my own enlightenupment (yes, we did evoke the Frog thereof). I rediscovered the power of fun. And, consequently, rededicated myself and website to the just plain fun of it all.
So, if you happen to look at the homepage, you won't see any mention of Meditation Games. And if you happen to click on the "retreats" item in the menu, you won't see any mention of all the many kinds of retreats. What you'll see instead are the words "from 3 hours to 6 days of genuine, caring, open, freeing, empowering FUN" which apparently is what I'm all about, at last, once again.
All of which is to share with you a story of my renewed dedication to fun, and to invite you to your own.
