ON THE SERIOUS BUSINESS OF JOY AND GENEROSITY : PLAY IS NOT A REHEARSAL !

Somewhere between “act your age” and “you’re doing too much,” we lost the plot. Hear me out.

We were told play is for children. That generosity must be sacrificial. That giving has to hurt to count. That if you're not breaking your back for it, you’re not doing it right. But what if the real revolution is in the giggle? What if joy is strategy, not reward? And what if play isn’t a distraction from generosity, but a portal to it?

Yes, darling. We’re talking about Play as Praxis and its divine intersection with giving.

1. Play Is a Way of Knowing (and Giving)

Play is not the opposite of work. It’s not the reward after the hard stuff. Play is the work. Play is how we experiment with freedom, try out generosity without bureaucracy, test out new worlds in sandboxes before we scale them to size.

Ever watched kids on a playground? They lend toys without meetings. Share snacks without hashtags. Resolve fights with a rock-paper-scissors treaty and move on like little diplomats of joy. That is what generosity looks like in motion. Spontaneous. Trusting. Rooted in abundance.

2. Giving Doesn’t Have to Be Grim

Somewhere along the line, generosity got a PR problem. It became a duty, a tax-deductible obligation, or a halo-polishing exercise.

But what if giving was silly, spontaneous, and full of glitter?

What if your act of generosity looked like:

• Hosting a dance party for no reason and letting strangers in?

• Making soup for your tired friend without waiting for them to ask?

• Creating a meme that makes someone laugh on a hard day?

• Sharing your crayons (even if they're the fancy imported ones)?

Generosity doesn't always come wrapped in grants and giving circles. Sometimes, it’s a shared playlist. A hug. A moment. A meme. A mirror held up to someone reminding them they are magic.

3. Play Teaches Us to Give Without Ego

In play, we let go of outcomes. There is no KPI for joy. No logframe for a tickle fight.

When we play, we give our time, our silliness, our imagination, without worrying about what we get back. It’s messy, mutual, and often unmeasurable. Sound familiar? That’s also how real, transformative giving works.

In fact, the most impactful generosity rarely shows up on a spreadsheet.

4. Let’s Reclaim Our Inner Generous Giggler

This is a call to action (or should we say… play-ction?).

To the serious funders, movement builders, stewards of justice and spreadsheets:
What would happen if you played more?

What if your meetings began with a riddle?
What if your community grants included room for joy, art, and silliness?
What if you gave without needing to track impact but trusted that joy itself is impact?

And to the rest of us: go outside. Wear mismatched socks. Write a love letter to your neighbor. Bake cookies just because. Host a “no reason at all” giveaway. Be extra. Be kind. Be ridiculous.

Because play is not a break from reality it is how we build a better one.

Joy is Generous

Play is a rehearsal for freedom. Generosity is the heartbeat of community. Together, they are the drumbeat of a world where we are not just surviving, but dancing. So go ahead play like your liberation depends on it.

Because maybe, just maybe, it does.