The healing power of play and delight

Friend, I’ve been trying something a little different over the last few weeks with one of my clients: walking coaching sessions.

If you’ve worked with me in any capacity, you know the body is always part of the conversation. We pause, breathe, notice, and listen for what the body is holding. Walking has simply become a different doorway into this work.

There is something deeply supportive about letting the body move while the truth comes forward. The rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other helps heavy energy move through instead of staying lodged in the same familiar places.

And the towering trees, sweet little chirping birds, and playful squirrels (my absolute favorite!) give the nervous system more to hold onto than the hard things being shared.

Yesterday, as we walked, spring was fully showing off; the trees were covered in gorgeous blooms. We stopped a few times just to look closely at the intricate shapes and patterns that are so easy to miss when we’re moving through the world on autopilot.

And then, at one point, we came to a stretch of sidewalk completely blanketed in pink petals. I didn’t say this out loud to my client (I wanted the session to stay about her, of course), but for a moment, I felt a childlike giddiness flow through me. It was as if the sidewalk had become a soft pink carpet rolled out just for us! (Very serious coach behavior, I know.)

As we stepped onto the flowers, I noticed the color beneath our feet, the texture of the petals, and the gentle generosity of the tree that had released those blooms like an offering. It was delightful.

So much of adult life is spent with our eyes fixed on what’s next. The next appointment, email, grocery list, soccer game, holiday, and to-do.

Somewhere along the way, many of us forgot how to play. We learned to be responsible, efficient, useful, and composed. We learned how to keep doing for the sake of survival, and forgot how to be. But the child within us needs more than survival.

She needs beauty for no reason. She needs to touch the tree, dip her toes in the water, follow the ant trail, and explore life just because it’s there.

And sometimes, she needs to pretend she’s crossing a royal flower carpet like a bona fide princess.

Because these small, playful, movement-filled moments help us stay resourced while life is full, messy, and demanding.

Your invitation this week is to let your body choose the detour. Pause to smell the flowers. Walk the long way. Or just follow the thing that makes you smile for no practical reason at all.

In Love, Light, and healing,