This New Year’s Resolution: Procrastinate More
- Dr. Tom Wagner
- 59 minutes ago
- 5 min read
Not everything meaningful can be scheduled or optimized. This reflection considers play as a form of holiness in a world that rarely slows down.
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This New Year’s Resolution: Procrastinate More
This week, I unearthed an article from the SMC archives that gets really serious about the art of whimsy. As you get your eyes and your determination set on a New Year’s Resolution, be sure to leave a little space for your inner child to come out and play — on a regular basis. From my family to yours, “Blessed New Year!” – Dr. Tom
Some say that compared to English, the Eskimo argot contains a whole avalanche of words describing snow in its many subtle variations. If an Eskimo child were to have seen the kind of snow that fell in and around Saint Louis around this time three years ago, she would have used an Inuit word that translates into, “Awesome for snow forts!”
How the Seed for Building an Igloo Was Planted
Many years ago, when 22-year-old Lizzie was still four, it was my job to drive her to preschool, nine miles away. When God made my little girl, he built her for conversation. Lizzie would have no part of my preferred sports talk radio. Instead, she would demand, “Tell me a story.” That’s how the tales of Karigi, the Eskimo girl, were born.
The very first tale began with Karigi and her father’s rescue of a half-frozen polar bear cub. With the mother nowhere to be found, they eventually adopted the cub. Over time, and many morning commutes to school, the relationship between Karigi and her ursine companion developed almost shamanistic powers within her to understand animals. Through the vehicle of Karigi, I attempted to teach Lizzie lessons about such things as self-reliance, self-donation, and the value of intellectual pursuits, including homework (albeit that one was a stretch). Given a five-day workweek, there are right around 250 commutes per year. In an effort to develop more and more episodes to cover those rides, the plot lines began to jump the shark. And needless to say, Lizzie grew up. Sadly, we had to shut down the Karigi franchise.
But when the stories were still fresh, they would usually linger over the imagined details of Eskimo domesticity. One of the earliest narratives catalogued how Karigi’s father would cut and stack blocks of snow and ice. Having constructed a frozen dome, he would set about driving seal bone nails through thick, musk oxen skins for insulation inside the structure. Plush ox fur carpeting, thick ox fur insulation/wallpaper, along with whale blubber lamps, heated Karigi’s winter dwelling to a cozy sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit.
I don’t know how well the lessons stuck, but from time to time, Lizzie would make reference to Karigi and the igloo she and her family occupied. Many times, we have discussed how fun it would be to build our own igloo out of Saint Louis snow.
How an Igloo Appeared in My Backyard
After taking a younger version of Lizzie sledding, I decided to take the plunge into the booming, banging, buzzing Christmas throngs of shoppers. When it comes to shopping, you should know that the “P” in Dr. Tom’s “Ph.D.” stands for “Procrastination.” Just before stepping into the car, on the way to Target, I remembered Karigi and her igloo home. “Why not surprise Lizzie by building the foundation for an igloo? While I’m gone shopping, she and her cousin can build on that foundation! It’ll only take an hour or so!”
Before long, twelve huge, snow boulders were gathered into a circle, Stonehenge-style. When Lizzie and her cousin arrived home from a music recital, they shrieked in delight as they surveyed the fruit of my procrastination. Immediately, they gathered their snow gear. It wasn’t long before my daughter requested, “Daddy, can you help us put another layer of snowballs on top before you go?” Game on! Many hours and no Christmas presents later, as darkness set in, we noticed that the snow we had been packing all afternoon had grown too cold for molding a roof. Sadly, we walked up to the house, resigned that our structure would remain a domed snow fort without a roof. “Wait!” I exclaimed. “What if we put plywood over the top and covered it with snow?” Lizzie pumped her fist and shouted, “Yes!” I hate to brag, but if we could have located a few musk ox skins and whale oil lamps, I’m sure that Lizzie, Luke, and I could have spent the night in our spacious, homemade snow globe.
This Sunday, as we begin a new year, it is worth taking a moment to explore the nature of holiness. I have a theologian-friend, Jim Linhares, who is to spiritual theology what Eskimos are to snow. He has immersed himself in it and developed a rich vocabulary to describe holiness in its many varieties. In one of the articles in his blog, “spiritintheworld.com,” he thoroughly treated the topic of play. He beautifully described play (and outdoor play in the fresh air) as an important form of holiness. He warns in his work what Cat Stevens warned in his song, “Where Do the Children Play?” (1970). With the realization of a plugged-in world and the proliferation of club sports, spontaneous, creative, outdoor play is now an endangered species.
About two hours into our igloo construction, it occurred to me that very little Christmas shopping was getting accomplished. That’s when it dawned on me that the gift I was giving Lizzie by playing in the snow with her was so much more valuable and long-lasting than anything I could buy for her in a store. Long after the pieces to the Christmas board games have gone missing…long after this year’s Christmas sweater has grown threadbare…long after the latest video game has grown obsolete, the traces of a co-constructed igloo will remain within the souls of a girl, her dad, and his nephew.
In light of all of this, I would like to propose a potential New Year’s resolution. This year, could you determine to procrastinate a little more to create space for play? In our play with one another, we incarnate an important dimension of God who breaks into our existence, calling for us to come out and play.
Dialogue and Discussion Questions:
Longtime SMC readers know that “the Dialogue” section of this article is set aside for a good conversation over a cup of coffee—with a friend, with a group, or just with yourself! As always, feel free to share your reaction or reflection in the “Comments” section below.
What is an activity that is playful for you that you enjoyed as a child?
Along the same lines, how do you play these days, whether or not you did it as a kid?
How do you play outdoors with no technology?
Have you recently allowed a child to lead you in play? If not, can you think of a way to put yourself into a situation where a child calls the shots in a playful activity (e.g., Connect Four, Art Project, Playschool House, Sledding, Dolls, Hoops, etc…)? See if you can practice the improv skill of “yes…and…” as you accompany your child-play leader in the art of play.
All mammals play. Do you have access to a dog that would play with you for a good long time?
Please share with the SMC community your thoughts and/or reflections in the comments below.