The Hidden Power of Play: How to Turn Work Into Energy, Joy & Breakthroughs
- Bishal Lama
- Apr 26
- 10 min read
Updated: Apr 30
Richard Feynman was one of the greatest physicists of the 20th century.
At 27, he was already a star.
A Cornell professor.
A war scientist. A genius on paper.
But after his wife died…
He stopped caring.
Physics, once thrilling, became a chore.
He read stories instead of writing equations.
He wandered. He drifted. He was done.
Until one day…
He watched a student toss a plate into the air.
The plate wobbled.
The logo on the plate wobbled faster.
That’s it.
That’s the moment everything changed.
Not because it mattered.
Because it was interesting.
Because it was fun.
Feynman played with the math behind the wobble.
That play led him to rethink quantum electrodynamics.
That rethink won him the Nobel Prize.
Read that again: He got a Nobel because he played with a plate.
Work is broken. Play is the fix.
You’ve been lied to about play.
They told you it’s childish. Unproductive. A luxury for the lazy.
But here’s the truth: Play isn’t the opposite of work. Play is the fuel.
Play is the energy of work.
Children don’t need permission to play.
They explore, climb, imagine, invent—without purpose.
And yet, it’s through purposelessness that they develop the most.
The moment we traded wonder for worry, we became tired.
We didn’t burn out because we worked too hard.
We burned out because we forgot how to play.
Actually,
We’re not wired to grind 24/7.
We’re wired to create. To explore. To imagine.
And play is the sandbox where it all starts.
It’s not optional. It’s how your brain learns adaptability, empathy, and problem-solving.
Play rewires your nervous system to handle complexity and chaos.
Without play, there’s no creativity. No innovation. No joy. And without joy, you’re not alive. You’re just functioning.
Watch a dog off-leash in an open field.
That’s not just an animal running—it’s expression without resistance.
You’re the same.
Your most authentic self doesn’t show up in meetings, metrics, or money.
It shows up when you lose track of time.
When you’re not trying to win, but to experience.
In play, your ego dissolves. Flow takes over. You remember what it means to be human.
and the world remembers you through your play.
People aren’t remembered for how busy they were.
They're remembered for how fun they made life for others.
Laughter, joy, wildness—that’s legacy.
Even obituaries prove this.
Not “he closed 12 deals,” but “he was a prankster, a music lover, a joy to be around.”
Your playful spirit is your most memorable gift.
Don’t hide it behind spreadsheets and schedules.
What’s Play?
"At its most basic level, play is a very primal activity. It is preconscious and preverbal—it arises out of ancient biological structures that existed before our consciousness or our ability to speak. For example, the natural tussling of sibling kittens just happens. In us, play can also happen without a conscious decision that, okay, I’m going to play now. Like digestion and sleep, play in its most basic form proceeds without a complex intellectual framework.”
from the book, Play: how it shapes the Brain.
Play isn’t about survival. It’s not about hitting a target or checking off boxes. It’s for its own sake—pure, unfiltered, and voluntary. No one’s forcing you to play. It’s your choice, and that’s where the magic happens.
Here are the real properties of play:
Purposelessness: Play doesn’t need to earn you money or status. It doesn’t need to prove anything. It’s just there, for you, in the moment. And that's what makes it so freeing.
Voluntary: It’s your decision. There’s no duty, no obligation. If you’re not into it, you’re not doing it.
Inherent Attraction: Play is fun. It’s the thing that makes you forget the clock. It's the antidote to boredom and burnout. If you’ve ever found yourself losing track of time, you know exactly what I mean.
Freedom from Time: When you’re in the flow of play, time slips away. It’s like you step outside of reality for a bit, and suddenly, you’re in the zone.
Diminished Self-Consciousness: Ever notice how you stop worrying about how you look, what others think, or whether you’re “doing it right” when you play? That’s because you’re so immersed in the moment that you forget about everything else. You’re no longer thinking about thinking. You just are. And it feels amazing.
Improvisational Potential: Play isn’t rigid. There are no rules that can’t be bent. It invites unpredictability, and in that chaos, you stumble across new ideas, thoughts, and behaviors. The more you play, the more you discover about yourself. You open yourself up to serendipity.
Continuation Desire: Play creates its own momentum. Once you start, you don’t want it to stop. You make up new rules, alter the game—whatever it takes to keep the fun going.
These aren’t just random properties. They define freedom in its purest form. The rules you’re used to—the ones that tell you to be practical, to avoid wasting time, to constantly please others—disappear when you play. In play, those constraints dissolve. It’s liberating.
So, let’s take a step further. There’s this framework for play from Scott Eberle, an expert on the psychology of play, that lays out six stages we all go through when we play. It’s a cyclical process:
Anticipation: The thrill of wondering what’s next. There’s curiosity, a little anxiety—can we actually pull this off?
Surprise: The moment something unexpected happens. You discover a new perspective or feeling.
Pleasure: That wave of satisfaction. It’s that little thrill when things go differently than expected.
Understanding: You learn something new. Something clicks that you didn’t see before. A new idea forms, a new connection is made.
Strength: You grow. Your confidence grows as you conquer challenges, as you figure out how things work, and as you push through the discomfort.
Poise: Finally, you find your balance. You feel content, grounded, and ready for whatever comes next.
This cycle is continuous. Once you reach poise, guess what?
The game begins again. That’s the beauty of play. It’s never really over. It always evolves.
The permission to Play
Johan Huizinga, a Dutch historian, once said that play is “a free activity standing quite consciously outside ‘ordinary’ life as being ‘not serious’ but at the same time absorbing the player intensely and utterly.”
That’s powerful.
It’s an act we call unserious—but it pulls us in with a force we can’t explain.
It doesn’t chase money. It doesn’t chase outcomes. It doesn’t need a reason.
It lives inside its own time. Its own space.
Sometimes with rules. Sometimes without.
But always with a structure that makes sense in the moment.
Huizinga even says it builds social circles. Little cultures. Inside jokes. Shared language. It creates bonds not by force, but by flow.
And yet, I think even he undersold it.
Because play doesn’t need secrecy. It doesn’t need rules. It doesn’t even need structure. It just needs permission.
The permission to step outside the algorithm of ordinary life.
To do something just because.
To feel something real. Without a scoreboard.
And here’s the thing no definition captures:
Play is a feeling.
You can chart it, diagram it, theorize it into oblivion—but unless you remember what it felt like to lose yourself in it, you won’t understand a thing.
It’s like trying to taste a meal by looking at a picture.
You can admire the plating. You can hear someone describe the flavors.
But until it hits your tongue, you’ll never know what it actually is.
Play is the tongue on the taste.
The breath in the moment.
The experience that refuses to be theorized.
So let’s stop defining it—and start experiencing it.
Adventure reboots your brain
A 2020 NYU study tracked people’s movements and emotions.
The people who wandered—who took new routes, explored different cafés, visited unexpected places—felt more joy.
Why?
Because novelty is nourishment for your nervous system.
Stuck in a loop?
Inject micro-adventures.
Change your scenery.
Take a different path.
Try something random.
Routine breeds fatigue.
Adventure breeds aliveness.
You don’t need a new country.
You need a new curiosity.
Choose your character
In video games, you pick a class:
Warrior. Wizard. Rogue. Builder. Joker.
In real life, you’ve been told to just… be “professional.”
That’s why you’re exhausted.
Dr. Stuart Brown’s research on 5,000 people revealed 8 “play personalities”:
1. The Joker
You love to make people laugh.
Silly faces. Funny voices.
You’re the kid everyone remembers at recess.
Not because you try,
But because fun follows you.
2. The Kinesthete
You move.
You can’t sit still.
Your body
has
to dance, run, flip, climb.
You feel happy when your muscles are working.
Thinking = moving.
3. The Explorer
You’re always looking for something new.
A new park. A new idea. A new song.
You ask questions like: “What’s over there?”
And then go find out.
Curiosity is your compass.
4. The Competitor
You play to win.
You like scoreboards.
You love games with rules.
Even if it’s just rock-paper-scissors,
You want to be the best.
5. The Director
You organize the game.
You tell people what to do—and it works.
“Let’s build a fort. You get the pillows.”
You like being in charge
Because you see the big picture.
6. The Collector
You like stuff.
Stamps, cards, shiny rocks, bottle caps.
You want to find the coolest, rarest, weirdest ones.
Your joy?
Lining it up. Looking at it. Owning it.
7. The Artist / Creator
You make things.
Draw. Paint. Build.
Craft. Invent.
You take ideas from your head
And bring them into the world.
8. The Storyteller
You live in your imagination.
You create characters, voices, worlds.
Books, movies, make-believe—
Everything becomes a story
When you touch it.
You might be one. You might be three. You might be five.
Your play is your fingerprint.
Find what lights you up— And do more of that.
Find your type. Build your days around it.
That’s not childish. That’s alignment.
Curiosity is dopamine
A UC Davis study asked people trivia questions.
Those who wanted to know the answers remembered 30% more.
Their brains even released dopamine when they learned something they were curious about.
Curiosity literally rewires you to focus and retain.
This is why side quests matter.
Fun is fuel
Over the last 30 years, neuroscience has cracked open something beautiful:
We’re wired for connection.
Not just survival. Not just logic.
But emotional connection.
Joy. Play. Nurture. Bonding.
Especially through behaviors like sex, caring for infants, crying when separated, and playing.
These are not random. They’re deeply embedded brain systems that help us create and sustain life.
Researchers discovered something wild.
Young rats, when they play, chirp.
But not just any sound—ultrasonic chirps at 50kHz.
When they roughhouse or get tickled, they "laugh."
Take away their ability to hear? Play drops.
That’s not coincidence. That’s communication.
It’s social. It’s emotional.
It’s the building block of connection.
Rats do laugh when you tickle them.
Weird but true.
If rats can express joy, can feel playful, can bond…
Then emotions aren’t just human.
They’re part of how brains—all brains—are built.
Even if we can’t measure emotion directly in animals, we see its effects.
Same goes for us.
Laughter isn’t just a cute reaction. It’s ancient. Babies start laughing by 2–3 months—long before they speak. It starts with tickles. Later, it blends with thinking, humor, intellect. But the base? Still joy. Still play. Still connection.
Want to connect with a child?
Tickle them. Play with them.
It bypasses language and builds instant trust.
Play isn’t just nice. It’s biological.
It lights up your brain.
It releases dopamine.
It makes you want to do again.
We think burnout is from doing too much.
Nope.
Burnout is from doing too much of what you hate and calling it success.
To shift:
Ask: What would this look like if it were fun?
Add music.
Add color.
Add a game.
Add people.
“A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.” — Mary Poppins.
It suggests that if you add a little pleasure or sweetness to a challenging task or situation, it becomes easier to handle.
Just like “All is Well” from 3 Idiots.
Enjoy the climb, not just the summit
Olympic climber Alberto Ginés López didn’t focus on gold.
He focused on flow.
He smiled. He chatted. He played on the wall.
That’s why he won.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called this “flow”—the joyful absorption that makes you forget about time, outcomes, and everything else.
You can find flow anywhere:
Coding.
Writing.
Flipping burgers.
Selling Notebooks (true story).
Shift from:
“I have to do this perfectly.”
To:
“I get to do this joyfully.”
Stress kills play
Columbia researchers restrained rats under a mesh for 30 minutes.
Afterward? No play. No energy. Just huddling.
Stress blocks the part of your brain that wants to explore, laugh, try, fail, repeat.
Same with humans.
So what reduces stress?
→ Reframing failure.
Mark Rober’s experiment showed that even fake negative feedback causes people to try less.
It’s not the challenge that breaks us.
It’s the story we tell ourselves when we fall.
When you treat failure as a data point, everything shifts.
Bad launch? Data point.
Awkward date? Data point.
Missed target? Data point.
Data doesn’t shame you.
It informs you.
It helps you iterate.
It keeps the game going.
Be sincere, not serious
Alan Watts said it best:
“Don’t be serious. Be sincere.”
The serious person clings to outcomes.
The sincere person plays with the moment.
The serious person sucks the life out of the game.
The sincere person makes everyone want to keep playing.
Approach your work like a game of Monopoly:
→ Invest yourself fully.
→ Laugh at the setbacks.
→ High-five your opponents.
→ Enjoy the ride.
That’s sincerity.
That’s flow.
That’s freedom.
The Sea Squirt Fate
(aka: why grown-ups go dull and die early)
There’s this sea creature called a sea squirt.
In its early life, it swims around, exploring the ocean.
Moving. Learning. Growing.
But here’s the twist:
Once it finds a rock to sit on for life…
It eats its own brain.
Why?
Because it doesn’t need to think anymore.
No more movement. No more curiosity.
No more play.
That’s what happens when we stop playing.
We start dying before we’re dead.
Kids play because their brains are growing.
But here’s what most people forget:
Your brain is designed to grow forever.
When you keep playing—
Exploring new ideas, learning new skills,
Trying weird stuff, building things just for fun—
Your brain keeps adapting.
It stays sharp.
It stays alive.
It’s not just about staying smart.
It’s about staying human.
People think Alzheimer’s, heart disease, and mental dullness just “come with age.”
False.
Studies say only a tiny part of Alzheimer’s is genetic.
The rest?
It’s how you live.
Play protects the brain.
It protects the body.
People who read, do puzzles, garden, create, laugh, and explore?
They live longer.
And better.
One study showed people who stayed mentally active had a 63% lower risk of Alzheimer’s.
Not a tiny difference.
A massive one.
Final Words
If you want to do meaningful work…
Don’t force.
Don’t fake.
Don’t fear.
Play.
Create systems that energize you.
Pick projects that light you up.
Let fun guide your focus.
Let curiosity shape your goals.
Because the opposite of play isn’t work. The opposite of play… is depression.
And in a world this stressful, play might just be your most strategic decision.
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