Back in the day I was really fun. The funnest.
But that was a long time ago.
When I was younger I was boundless in my energy, drive and ideas. I wanted to be a camp director. What could be better than a little world full of singing, games and memories? My every decision was shaped around a playful passion for life. I burned with joy.
Hell, I actually have a degree in Therapeutic Recreation. It’s true. I wrote essays about Schiller’s “Man is Only Human When at Play” because I took play seriously.
Play is a lens—through it we can see ourselves. Our struggles and joys and our potential reside there.
But in my mid-twenties life whacked me a few times, hard. Then I was pregnant. Then I was a combination of chronically ill and exhausted. Which meant that I was really No Fun At All.
Click here to read the rest of Elke's story….
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