adulting: the worst game ever played

how our childhood joys became capitalism's casualty

Nov 17, 2024

I’m Tuğba, a Turkish-Greek artist living in Berlin - as slow as possible is a newsletter exploring the in-between spaces of our lives that we see but often do not notice. Interested in reading more of my work?

"A coral gardener1," he wrote.

"Wow, that sounds like one of those dream jobs you see on TV! I would love to be a botanist or an ecologist in my next life—something that allows me to be in nature all day." I replied.

"Maybe even an archaeologist," I added, the memories flooding back. "I used to be obsessed with the pyramids as a child and would borrow so many books from the public library," I explained, smiling at the memories.

"That sounds amazing! If you could time travel to any period in history, when would it be?" he asked

By that time, my mind had already started wandering back to my childhood. When I closed my eyes, I could see my younger self spending hours in the library, fascinated by all the books and the wonders of life that awaited beyond my small hometown. Back then, there was no internet; the library was the only way to satisfy my curiosity. I would read countless books and magazines, and ideas would float through my mind, forming stories about travelling to every corner of the world and becoming friends with my favourite characters.

I would cut out magazine images and create mood boards on large pieces of cardboard. I learned the basics of using a sewing machine from my nan, which led me to start sewing pillows and tube skirts that were often too tight to walk in. I would watch my nan for hours as she did embroidery, dreaming that one day, I would also be able to embroider on large canvases.

In my early 20s, I began writing a fashion and beauty blog. Using my sewing and embroidery skills, I would DIY my clothes, sharing my creations on my blog. Each blog post was a celebration of self-expression and the joy of playing and creating. My curiosity and craftiness continued throughout university, yet slowly but steadily, my mind started to fill with business jargon.

“Art is a basic need. The creative self expression is as necessary to human life as air, as food, as water.”

Mary Heather

As I began my first job at a large tech company in London, I started writing and crafting less and less. My immigrant parents told me that it was time to embrace "real life." My ex would make jokes and tell me to stop messing around with childish activities while I was cutting out pieces from magazines after work in the evenings. "You need to deliver; you need to execute," my manager would say day in and out.

All of these hints and comments changed, shaped, and moulded me—regardless of whether I wanted them to. I began to believe that the things that once brought me happiness and nourished my soul for so many years were trivial and not as significant as my marketing job.

Then, one day, I just stopped. I stopped everything.

Now at 40, I still grieve deeply the years when I set aside my curiosity because I gave in and believed it was all childish. I mourn the time I lost, thinking that I needed to grow up and leave behind everything I enjoyed as a child. I feel angry that I allowed the world to invade my soul and erase what was essential for my well-being.

I came across a quote by Carl Jung during the pandemic, a time when many of us were questioning various aspects of our lives.

"What did you do as a child that made the hours pass like minutes? Herein lies the key to your earthly pursuits."

The quote resonated deeply with me and instantly transported me back to my childhood, reminding me of my interests, my dreams, and the different worlds I used to immerse myself in. This quote also helped me in the past years to slowly transition back into doing things that I loved as a child.

“The daily routine of most adults is so heavy and artificial that we are closed off to much of the world. We have to do this in order to get our work done. I think one purpose of art is to get us out of those routines. When we hear music or poetry or stories, the world opens up again. We're drawn in — or out — and the windows of our perception are cleansed, as William Blake said. The same thing can happen when we're around young children or adults who have unlearned those habits of shutting the world out.”

Ursula Le Guin

I do wonder, though:

Why must we grow up and give up the things we enjoyed as children?

Why does growing up require us to leave behind parts of ourselves to fit in?

Why can't we continue or even redefine the things that nourished our souls as children?

Why does it have to be this way or that way?

Why do we have to give up "play"?

And who decides these things?

Well, I do think it all circles back to our friend capitalism!

Capitalism doesn't allow time for play. When time is money, who has time to play?

Capitalism wants us to grow up and join the rat race, working 40 hours a week because it thrives when we become numb and stop questioning the world we live in.

Capitalism trains us to equate our self-worth with productivity, fostering a culture that glorifies overwork and undervalues "play."

Plus, capitalism instils shame in us for pursuing activities that don't generate income, compelling us to question the value of anything that isn't profitable.

This mindset can lead to a relentless pursuit of success defined solely by financial gain, pushing aside our innate passions and creativity. As we become entrenched in this cycle, we neglect what once made our soul thrive. Play and creativity, previously considered essential to humanity, are now seen as luxuries rather than necessities.

“But the 8-hour workday is too profitable for big business, not because of the amount of work people get done in eight hours (...) but because it makes for such a purchase-happy public. Keeping free time scarce means people pay a lot more for convenience, gratification, and any other relief they can buy. It keeps them watching television and its commercials. It keeps them unambitious outside of work.”

David Cain

What should we do with all of this, you may wonder?

Well... as much as I love giving advice...

Trust me, you are fine without a long list of suggestions.

Just start playing again.

Prioritize it!

Embracing play enriches our lives and challenges the foundations of a capitalist society that thrives on our compliance. The joy of playing and the simple pleasure of being present are acts of rebellion!

Spend some time thinking about Carl Jung's question:

"What did you do as a child that made the hours pass like minutes?"

Let your mind wander. Ask your parents. Write or draw about it in your diary or sketchbook.

Rekindle the joy of your childhood by doing the activities that once made you happy. Embrace the wonder and imagination of those early years, and let those experiences bring you joy again.

I would love to hear about the childhood joys you left behind that you would like to take up again?

as slow as possible

Discussion about this post