This weekend I went wave-running on the lake. I went fast. The wind and the water slapped at my face and my body, and it was like flying towards the edge of the earth on a smooth glass mirror. I swam. I laughed. I played.

I forget how good it feels to play. I forget because I'm so worried about dropping the ball, of letting my guard down, of enjoying myself too much only to get slammed back to reality when I realize there's still so much to do. Still so much to learn. Still so much to maintain.

Sometimes our spiritual practice can get bogged down by our perfectionism and striving.

Sometimes we spend so much time trying to maintain all our disciplines, we forget to have fun - to relax and just enjoy what is happening right now. 

I've been accused of being too serious on a number of occasions. It's true - the weight of the world and my own past sometimes engulfs me. To stay sober, to move through grief, to be a better human, and to find inner peace, I've adopted a lot of daily practices. I write. I meditate. I talk to my therapist; I talk in recovery circles. I allow all my feelings to arrive and flow. It can get heavy! Like liquid soul cleansing but the washing never ends. 

My fear is always this, If I don't maintain all of these practices, perfectly and consistently, something bad will happen. I will falter. I will fail. I will disappoint everyone - and most importantly, I will disappoint myself. Maintaining a spiritual practice can become an addiction like anything else. 

Keeping all the plates in the air is exactly what I used to do - a sneaky way to avoid myself. 

This weekend I was reminded that it's ok to play. In fact, play is one of life's greatest joys and human capacities. Play is part of our true nature, and our true purpose. To experience joy in the moment IS a spiritual practice. It's called presence. And fear will always wedge its way in to remind you to get back to "work".

But laughter in the midst of chaos is one of the greatest gifts. Play in the midst of pain is one of the greatest healers.

Play also reminds me that it's ok to let go - to let go of my routines and my practices, to let go of my need to stay in control, to let go of the things I thinkare keeping me sober and stable. All of who we are and what we're capable of is within us. It does not matter if we release our grip. In fact, maybe that's exactly what needs to happen in that moment, to remind us that along the spiritual path, and along the trials of life, we are still supported, still divine, even when we're out just having fun.