Play is hard.
When I started with the Medicine Without Doctors PlayTeam, one thing I wanted to experiment with was ringfencing time to practice being playful—time to do “things that don’t matter” (De Koven, 2014)—and see how that affects the research.
What I didn’t realise was that leaving Playdays completely unstructured would make them harder, not easier. Without a plan, goal, or rules, the day either slips into project work or mundane chores disguised as fun. Telling myself “be playful today” felt a lot like staring at a blank page and hoping to make great art—exactly the opposite of what Corita preached.
So how do you carve out time at work to play, allow for spontaneity, but still stay focused? It’s trickier than it sounds.
The most successful Playday I’ve had so far was when, on a whim, I let myself experiment with artistically representing some of the themes we’re developing in the research. I gave myself half a day to explore, to see what a combination of art and research might look like. Nobody asked me to do it; I couldn’t get it wrong. The worst that could happen was the work went nowhere. Instead, I produced what felt like exciting, thought-provoking little vignettes of the research—and had a lot of fun along the way.
Images from Made in Play (Castro, 2025)
Reflecting on why this Playday was productive—both artistically and playfully—reminded me of a recurring insight from my PhD and this blog:
My play needs structure.
And it’s not surprising. Dewey (1910) notes that aimless, goal-less play often slips into “fooling” - purposeless nonsense - just as work without play becomes boring drudgery. Play is most potent when it has direction or a goal. Simply telling myself to “be more playful” doesn’t help; it leaves me asking, what do I actually do today?—which can easily lead to guilt or frustration if the day doesn’t feel playful or produce much.
Rules don’t limit play—they create the space for it to flourish. By giving myself a structure for play, I remove the pressure of needing to be playful without knowing how.
So moving forward, I’m adopting some simple rules for Playdays:
- Exercise – Always start the day moving. It sparks creativity and keeps the body engaged.
- Direction – Explore themes from the research. What might an artistic response look like? (What is play? What does care look like?)
- Goals – Work “quick and dirty,” try new methods, produce as much as possible, with an eventual exhibition in mind.
- Failure – Outputs are standalone. Playdays are spaces to get things wrong. “We have no art—we just do the best we can” (Corita Kent).
- Log it – Keep records of how you felt, what you did, and where playfulness surfaced. Write a brief paragraph every week.
Hopefully, these rules don’t squash creativity—they free it. By giving the day shape, I can play, experiment, and follow curiosity. Space alone isn’t enough; structure provides the framework that makes play possible. It’s still early days, and I expect these rules to evolve. But already they feel like provocations that guide these work-sanctioned, play-specific days while leaving room for spontaneity.
Does your play need rules? Would structured play help you, or can you practice playfulness freehand?
References
DEWEY, J. 1910. *How we think, *Boston, D.C. Heath & Co.
DE KOVEN, B. L. 2014. practicing playfulness. A Playful Path [Online]. Available from: https://www.aplayfulpath.com/practicing-playfulness/ [Accessed 08-08-2025].
EBERLE, S. G. 2014. The Elements of Play: Towards a Philosophy and Definition of Play. Journal of Play, 6, 214-233.