In the same sense that curiosity is the neurological opposite of trauma, I would argue that fear is the opposite of playfulness, and that playfulness is necessary for creativity. Play is unstructured, spontaneous, fun. It calls on creative instincts intrinsically. This makes it something which interacts with existing paradigms in interesting and unexpected ways.
True spirituality, in my view, is playful. It is happy. It is free.
This is obscured by the fact that religion–which is the devolution of usually honest spiritual awakenings to structures of power based upon codified and rigid ideas–relies on fear for compliance. Sin and you will go to hell. Sin, and we will SEND you to hell.
And I don’t think it is true that play has NO rules. Different dances have different names. I simply think that it calls forth an open flow of energies of the sort that need to flow for any of us to interact directly with Life, and to look forward to, to cherish, the prospect.
People who despair, are those who cannot imagine playing in a world filled with cruelty and destruction. Ah, it is all sound and fury, and behind the curtain there is nothing to fear.
Here is one of my favorite poems, which I have likely posted at some point:
On the Seashore
BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.