Purposeless Play
I was out for a walk recently, replaying a conversation I’d had with a young client the day before.
He’s a talented soccer player. Academically driven. Thoughtful. The kind of kid who already thinks in terms of long-term strategy. We were talking about how to approach his coach—how to advocate for a different position that he believes will serve him better in the long run.
And then something else surfaced.
He admitted that sometimes he forgets that he loves to play soccer.
Not loves to train.
Not loves to improve.
Not loves to position himself well for the future.
Loves to play.
That moment stuck with me, because I see this pattern everywhere — in kids, in adults, and honestly, in myself. We’re achieving, striving, doing all the “right” things, and somewhere along the way, play quietly disappears.
Or maybe it doesn’t disappear — it just gets rebranded.
He admitted that sometimes he forgets that he loves to play soccer.
Not loves to train.
Not loves to improve.
Not loves to position himself well for the future.
Loves to play.
We don’t just go outside and move; we schedule a workout. We don’t kick a ball around; we practice. We don’t sing along to music; we make a playlist. Play becomes productive. And once play has an agenda, it stops being play.
Real play is beautifully inefficient. It doesn’t need to lead anywhere or prove its worth. It exists because it feels good to be in it. The moment we ask it to make us better, healthier, calmer, or more successful, it quietly turns into work.
So what would it look like to do something with no goal, no metric, no box to check — just for the sake of it? How do we remind ourselves that it’s okay to simply play? Maybe it starts small.
Maybe it’s giving yourself permission to be a little unproductive. To doodle. To shoot baskets. To put music on and dance in the kitchen. To walk without turning it into exercise. To do something simply because it brings a flicker of joy.
Maybe it’s giving yourself permission to be a little unproductive. To doodle. To shoot baskets. To put music on and dance in the kitchen. To walk without turning it into exercise. To do something simply because it brings a flicker of joy.
Not everything has to count. Some things just get to be fun.
Reflection: Where has play in your life slowly become performance? What used to feel light that now feels managed?
Action: Choose one activity this week and remove the goal. No tracking it. No improving it. No posting about it. Just experience it.
Tool: Do Something Useless Challenge - What is something completely useless you secretly enjoy? (Examples: browsing antique stores, arranging flowers, coloring, listening to music, baking something). Set aside 20–30 minutes this week to do it with no goal or outcome.