Tonight I walked a route with my dog Harley that entailed a trail where he can run off-leash through tall grasses and across open space.  For a significant time before this off-leash session, Harley walked by my side, watching for direction cues and keeping pace with me.  At the moment I unhooked Harley’s leash and said “okay,” he broke into a run, working figure-eight’s in the field and practically swimming through the tall, stalky, golden grasses.  He seemed to be smiling, and I couldn’t help but smile and laugh aloud.  I call these Harley times “getting the run out.”  At that very moment when it all started, the words that came right into my mind were “Just press play.”  The animation began.  And play Harley did.

Friends and family are kind to say they’re worried about me.  I work a lot, especially in my job as a writing instructor; the grading and prep never end.  During a typical semester, like most of my colleagues, I work just about every day, including weekends.  I’ve always worked during the summers, and this past summer I didn’t take time off and worked non-stop, weekends included.  I’m not proud of this pattern of 2 or 2:30 a.m. bedtime averages; sleep deprivation has become a way of life–even a dear friend with a young child has admitted she gets more sleep than I do.  Healthy?  No.  Guilty as charged.

But I’m generally a very healthy person, thanks to regular exercise, good eating habits, vitamins, yoga and meditation, indomitable optimism and spirit, faith, and Harley, friends and family.  I’m blessed.  I do lack enough play (and sleep), though, and am realizing that it’s going to catch up with me.

So, there’s been a slight shift occurring.  On the first day of teaching classes this semester, nearly two weeks ago, I arrived home hot from our near-100-degree temperatures and sun, tired from lack of sleep the night before and a bit taxed from first-day meet-and-greet and course introductions.  Normally, I would launch right back into work mode after arriving home and letting Harley chase his tennis ball for awhile (thank you, Chuckit ball launcher!).  But that day I asked my neighbor and her kids if they wanted to go to the pool for awhile; they’d been asking me all summer, but I usually had work to do and chose work.  That day, I pressed play.

And I was reminded that play is needed.  I worked later that night but felt better, even more rested.  Some of you might have just uttered, “well, duh!”  Why do I keep forgetting the work will always be there and no one else is going to step in and tell me it’s time for fun?  My latest shift is still imperfect and has a long way to go, but because I’m in the midst of some pretty big life shifts, I’m seeing more clearly more of the important stuff.  For me, I need to more often remind myself to Press Play.  And notice the resulting balance, joy and relief I’ve too long deprived myself.  For the first time in years these last couple of weeks, I’ve actually gone to bed before all of the work is done, whereas working until sometimes as late as 3 or 3:30 a.m., until the work for that day was done, on occasion was something I’ve done too often.

Kids get it.  Pets get it.  Why do we adults so often forget?  Choose fun and even sleep, and then fuhgeddaboudit.  Phew.  I’m working on it.