A simple lesson that adulthood can be a lot more fun if you never grow up.
"My name is Cristin, I have a dragon's tail, and I'm on top of the world," I shouted at a woman I had never met before. She returned my greeting by telling me that she, too, had a dragon's tail and was also on top of the world. No, I wasn't at a Grateful Dead concert and, no, I wasn't intoxicated. I was in a church nursery school surrounded by about 30 other dragon-tailed adults. We were there in search of play. And making inane declarations at the top of our lungs was a certain rite of passage. I'm well aware of how pathetic it sounds to enroll in a workshop to learn to play. But think about: How many of us in our responsible-adult-9-to-5 lives actually place importance on play? I know of at least one. Her name is Jeanne Bassis, founder of PlayReflections, and she spends her days running classes that help people--from corporate executives to curious soul-searchers-- bring the spirit of play into their lives. Quite a lofty goal, but her premise is a basic one: Life needn't be a laborious undertaking. Breaking out of the confines of adulthood is as simple as quieting the voice that says everything must be taken seriously, every action has a consequence, and every decision must be a rational one. In that room, I was given permission to regain the freedom I knew as a child. No impressions would be formed of me, no expectations placed on me. So for the next few hours I loudly sang nonsensical songs solely for the sake of hearing my voice mix with the not-so-melodious voices of the group, and I danced wildly to music blaring from a boom box for no other reason than to feel my body move in ways it hadn't in years. I laughed out loud. But I wasn't laughing because I felt silly in the adult definition of the word. It was a childlike silliness--the kind you can only feel when you cast aside concerns of how others perceive you. As adults, our actions very clearly have a purpose. We consciously set out to play, usually only after a serious benefit/risk analysis. This is not to say that life after puberty becomes reminiscent of the gray, bleak days of Orwell's 1984. Levity can easily be found by surrounding ourselves with friends who have a respect for the absurd--people who encourage us to, as the saying goes, dance like nobody is watching. I'm always grateful for the brief respites from the low points in life that these people offer. Whether it's the friend who forced me in front of a bar full of people to sing a duet rendition of "I Will Survive" or the co-worker who has an inherent ability to know when the office needs a bit of humor (aliens have been known to appear behind desks and an occasional plastic finger has shown up in a few jars of peanut butter), the moments they create are invaluable. But when we were children, play was a state of mind, a way of being. There was no coaxing, encouraging or promising of a good time--nobody had to offer a benefit. When I was young, everything was a game. (One favorite was to don a Wonder Woman bathing suit, layer my clothes on top, and spin around, disrobing with every turn until I, just like Lynda Carter, was transformed into a superhero. Bear in mind this was not in the privacy of my own home. We're talking packed beaches and crowded pools.) Yet there came a point between childhood and adolescence that this innocent spirit of play quietly receded into a fond memory. I became a logical, sensible being who found comfort in conformity. While part of this transformation was born out of necessity, it's just as vital to remember the days when the most important things on my "to do" list were to celebrate Opposite Day or save the world from a meteor. Dipping into that memory well and grabbing hold of what it means to play can change our state of mind. While I can't say that I no longer get uptight about deadlines, first dates or even inconsiderate drivers, I have gained a new perspective. I can now step back and look at the big picture of life. And I must tell you, it's very difficult to take things too seriously when you've admitted to having a dragon's tail.

Cristin Marandino is the news and Nutrition Editor of Vegetarian Times. She is currently busy looking for her Wonder Woman bathing suit.