Dear Readers,

I recently spent a Sunday with my three-year-old niece. We explored the sculpture trail at the botanical gardens, squealed when we discovered baby turtles in a pond, put on a spontaneous play without props or script, and ended the evening with a family dance party. By the time she reluctantly went to bed, I was sunburned, sore, and sleepy. Yet, despite my exhaustion, I also felt full. It was the way I feel when discussing a new favorite book; it was the rush I experience when I let a poem surprise my own pen. While playing with my niece, I didn’t think about the mountain of laundry or dozens of emails that so often plague me even when I am supposed to be at rest. I was present. I was alive.

We often associate play with children. In an interview, Lisa Brahms shares her insights about educational play from her work at children’s museums and CraftStudies. But play should go beyond childhood. Elizabeth Corey looks to the philosophers Michael Oakeshott, Johan Huizinga, and Josef Pieper to defend the importance of play for adult flourishing. Our other writers explore forms of play and how they can enrich our lives beyond a fleeting moment of fun. Caleb Gordon shows us how fantasy football can exercise and celebrate imagination. In a review of Sam Gold’s recent production of Macbeth, theatre director Raquel Sequeira reflects on the philosophy and magic of play-acting. Video game editor Sara Holston considers the ways video game narratives can prepare us to engage with the world more thoughtfully and ethically.

Of course, playtime cannot last forever. Eventually, we must face our less thrilling responsibilities. When I came home after my day of child’s play, I wasn’t rested. I needed a good night’s sleep before tackling my tasks. But I was restored, my imagination infused with a fresh energy and affection for the world. I hope that I continue to value that restoration and encourage others to prioritize play. Moreover, I hope that I make space for them to do so. May we all graciously receive and offer the gift of play, remembering these lines from Yeats:

It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessèd and could bless.

Fare forward,

Whitney Rio-Ross

Poetry Editor