Creativity as Survival: Why Play is a Wild Practice
- Nov 11, 2025
- 2 min read
The world tells us play is frivolous. Something for children, or a guilty indulgence squeezed in when the “real work” is done.
But here’s the truth: play is survival. Creativity isn’t an optional extra, it’s how we stay alive to ourselves.
When Play Disappears
Somewhere along the way, many of us lost it. The child who used to paint, sing, dance, invent worlds out of cardboard boxes… grew into the adult who colour-codes spreadsheets and worries what the neighbours think.
Play got replaced with productivity. Creativity with comparison. And we called it maturity.
But the cost of losing play is high. Without it, life hardens. We forget how to access joy, spontaneity, curiosity. Depression, burnout, and numbness creep in.
The Myth of “Being Creative”
When I talk to clients about play, they often say: “I’m not creative.”
What they usually mean is: I’m not good at art.
But creativity isn’t about talent. It’s not about painting like Van Gogh or writing a novel. It’s about allowing something new to emerge. It’s about colour, mess, imagination, trying something without needing it to be perfect.

That could mean:
Cooking without a recipe.
Singing badly in the car.
Scribbling with crayons.
Dancing in the kitchen.
Making up silly games with your kids.
Play is not about performance. It’s about presence.
Rewilding Lesson #4: Creativity as Survival
Rewilding yourself means un-domesticating the parts of you that got tamed out of existence. Play is one of those parts.
Because in the wild, play isn’t wasted time. Fox cubs wrestle to practise survival. Birds swoop for the joy of flight. Wolves chase each other not only to bond but to rehearse for the hunt. Play strengthens resilience, flexibility, and connection.
Humans are no different. When we play, we’re not escaping life, we’re rehearsing it. We’re building the capacity to stay alive to change, to chaos, to possibility.
When the World Steals Play
Of course, it’s not your fault play slipped away. The world we live in worships productivity and sneers at rest. It praises “hard-working” but devalues wonder. It tells us creativity isn’t profitable unless you can monetise it.
So you stopped doodling. Stopped singing. Stopped trying new things unless you could be good at them.
And with it, you lost one of your deepest tools for survival.
A Quiet Return to Play
So how do we reclaim it?
Start small. Start silly. Start where no one is watching.
Buy cheap watercolours and make a mess.
Learn one clumsy guitar chord.
Bake something and let it flop.
Play a board game without caring who wins.
Write a terrible poem.
The point isn’t the product. The point is that you dared to play again.
Why This Matters
When depression flattens, when anxiety tightens, when trauma leaves you braced and numb — play can feel impossible. But it’s also medicine. Not because it fixes everything, but because it reawakens the part of you that knows how to feel joy.
Play reminds you: you’re not just surviving. You’re still alive.
You don’t need permission to play. You don’t need to earn it. You just need to remember that creativity isn’t a luxury; it’s a wild practice.
Sarah x



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