Released On 24 March 2025

Jill's blog: The Nature of Play

For the last year, nearly, I’ve been volunteering at the after-school forest school club at the school my sons attend. This means that I spend 2 hours on Monday afternoons playing in The Meadow with a bunch of primary school kids. It’s loud, currently cold, always hectic and often messy. It is also one of the best things I’ve done for myself in recent years.

I’ve always been an outdoors person, even if my current life does not make that clear. As a child I was outside 90% of the time I was home. No matter the weather, no matter the day, being in the woods around my house was my happy place. So much so that I still picture myself sitting on my favourite little hill under my favourite little tree when I need to create a moment of peace and calm amongst the chaos. It’s amazing how truly healing nature can be just by being itself, and it’s shocking how quickly and easily we can forget that.

Yet my love for this forest school experience isn’t just about being outside. There is something truly wonderful about spending time with a gaggle of kids who get to run wild and use their imagination in a safe, free play, outdoor setting. It has reminded me that play is boundless and does not require perfection to be successful.

Or, rather, play is not about being successful.

Play has nothing to do with the end result or the very adult need to analyse, quantify, and categorise experiences and things. It is about freedom, expression, exploration and messiness. It’s about finding your way and enjoying the process of exploring through fun. You are meant to be uncertain of the next page in the imaginative story, the next rule of your collectively made-up game. You are meant to jump in that puddle, paint with that mud and open a stick shop. It’s about having the space and being encouraged to explore the freedom of turning a stick, a bucket, a rock and a log into a boat or drum set or trap for an elusive frog.

Forest school has reminded me not only of the importance of seeing things in an unrestricted way, but in the sheer necessity of play and the freedom of expression required to make the most out of every situation.

I know that the time will come where I am no longer able to volunteer at Forest School and when that day arrives, I do worry that I will lose the connection to the spirit of play that I have found during those two hours a week. However, this is how it works.

Moments come that remind us of what we once loved and what we want to experience again. It’s the task of the adult to find way to create those moments for our grown selves. To tend to the need for childhood experiences and childish wisdom. To find the freedom and joy in play. There is much to be learned from those who have not yet learned all of life’s hardest lessons and I am very grateful I get that chance.

Jill is an American ex-pat living her best English life on the border of London and Surrey. She spends her days pretending she knows what she’s doing, creating some fun things along the way. With a passion for storytelling and the gumption of a New Yorker, she’s raising two cheeky, clever boys with deep imaginations and an annoyingly cunning use of language. With a husband, cat and hamster along for the ride, life is never boring. Even if sometimes a bit too stressful.