Intro

Watching kids play can bring us to a spiritual place. There’s something to it that reminds us that there's a different way of being in the world. That there’s a different way of relating to the world. It’s spontaneous and free, full of amazement and joy. We call it “wonder.” 

But it often seems like wonder is only for our childhood. As adults, worry tends to take its place. But who’s to say that’s the way it should be? There are hints that recapturing wonder is important for us as adults. We have the phrase “play in the sandbox'' as a way to give ourselves permission to think wildly, to dream, to loosen the mental straightjacket we often find ourselves in.

It seems like we truly desire the curiosity, the openness to life we see in kids at play. Maybe it reminds us about what’s true of ourselves, something we lost touch with along the way in life. It could be that the wonder of a child reminds us that there’s still wonder within each of us. And that to wonder is not to escape from the real world, but a way to be radically present to it. And a way to see the divine with fresh eyes each day. Well, there must be something to it. As Jesus said, “the only way to the kingdom of God is as a child.”  

On this episode of the podcast. Wonder. Why did we lose it? How do we get it back? And what can kids teach us about it? I’m Seth Dickson and this is Soul Search.

Act 1 - Kids Have Experiences

[Lacy] Haven House is a transitional facility for families without homes … 

This is Lacy Finn Borgo. She’s a long-time spiritual director, which means she listens to people, mainly, as a way of helping them deepen their awareness of God in life. One of the big things for Lacy is that she sees children as having the same spiritual longings that adults do. And that they’re capable of having profound spiritual moments too. There’s a lot we can learn from kids here. In fact, she wrote a book about it called, Spiritual Conversations with Children. It’s about her work as a spiritual companion to kids at Haven House.

She does this not to teach the kids anything, but to give them space to talk about what might be awakening within them spiritually. What they’re noticing about the world. What wonder is stirring in them. She calls it “holy listening.” Now, in her nearly ten years at Haven House there’s been many kids that’s stood out to her to be sure, but I asked if one has really stayed with her:

[Lacy] I write about one child who, our first meeting is as he's sharing his fruit loops with me and he's lifted these fruit loops from the kitchen unbenounced to me. I didn't realize that he wasn't supposed to have them, but anyway, he comes in with all of these fruit loops and he's chosen all the blue ones for me.

And they're all kind of, if you've ever had sticky fruit loops that have been in a small, he was about five at the time, in a small child's hand. It's not really something that you want to eat, but if you want to be really attentive and help that child know that you hold them with unmitigated positive regard, you're going to eat those fruit loops.

We had a conversation together over the course of two years. He was there with his mom and we just enjoyed spiritual conversations. We talked about goodness and beauty and truth. We talked about loss and tears. He talked about his relationship with Jesus and that was his language that he used.

And then he left Haven house. He and his mom graduated. And not long after they left she died. She was his only parent and he was going to need to go live with a grandparent at that point. Of all the things that I could have done with this child, over two years of Wednesdays, I'm so grateful that we spent it in listening conversations. 

Like the one thing I hope I could give him was a sense of being heard and listened to, of affirming the relationship that's already happening within him with God. I think about those conversations and I think about him and I never see a box of fruit loops or a blue fruit loop, without lifting my heart in prayer for him.

[Clare] Bubble gum, bubble gum in a dish. How many pieces do you wish?  

One of the reasons I wanted to talk to Lacy is because I read her book with my kids in mind. I wanted to know more about what it is exactly that’s at work in them, because they seem to be these little spiritual dynamos. You can hear them in the background. I have a three-year-old daughter, Clare, and a five-year-old son, James. And I had begun to notice that they were making these comments, usually unprompted, that were spiritual in nature. They might be playing with toys after dinner and say something really profound. Or it might happen right in the middle of a fight over the toys. 

One time Clare was having a meltdown because she was having trouble sharing. And James told her, “Clare, your job is to love people.” I don’t know where that came from. There was one afternoon when I was on a walk through our neighborhood with Clare. And I was looking down at the sidewalk, distracted, thinking about work probably, and all of a sudden she yelled out, “Clouds!” I looked up and the whole sky was full of them, in these beautiful pastels of pink and blue. One wet morning, after a much needed rain here in California, James was pointing out the soggy leaves barely hanging on the trees in our backyard. “God made it rain,” he said. “Because the earth needs it.” 

These are what you might call “contemplative moments” – an awareness of the inherent holiness of life, the beauty, the fragility of it. Now some of them may have to do with comments I’ve made around them in the past. Kind of dropping things for them to think about. But for the most part, they really seemed to emerge from a deeper place than just trying to please me as their dad. 

After reading Lacy’s book, I now see them as these little hints that something’s opening up for them. It’s not happening because of any parenting technique. “It’s already there,” as she said. It’s like the whole world is alive for them. They naturally have this unfiltered amazement with things. This sort of raw, primitive connection to everything around them. They're attuned to things I usually ignore, walk right by or just plain forget. For kids, the pink clouds aren’t just in the background, or something science can easily explain, but part of the wonder of life.

And wonder reveals. It reveals what’s hidden to us as we go about our busy, everyday lives.  And when you encounter it, it kind of stops you right where you are. It wakes you up. Because wonder taps into this intuitive sense we have about the world – that everything is connected, that we’re a part of a beautiful mystery.

So a kid pointing out the pink clouds or rain drops on a leaf is not just a “cute” moment they’re having. There’s something to it for us, too. Because the mystery is not just out there. It’s also in us.

[Clare] This is a rock collection heart. I did it! 

[Seth] You did it! I see that.

[Clare laughs] 

[Lacy] I find it awe inspiring that when we allow ourselves to be fully present, that wonder will wake up within us. Wonder has this natural quality. There's something about wonder that desires to ping off of someone else. So if we're fully present to someone, which little people are full of it, wonder will ping within us, if we're just totally present.

And it's, it’s mind blowing that quality of wonder, but it desires bounce around between people. Or between things like, I mean, I've shared a moment of wonder with my dog. We brought home a kitten and as my dog is like staring at this kitten with wonder, you know, I think a little bit of fear, but wonder, like, what is this furry thing? And if I would be present to my dog, then wonder would ping in my soul.

So part of the key to wonder is the ability to be present in the moment. Or present to the moment. And kids have a remarkable ability to do just that. They’re free. And free in a way that seems impossible to be as an adult, and maybe even a bit irresponsible. Who’s going to cook dinner, if all you do is stare at the clouds, right?

There’s a well-known scene in the Gospels about Jesus and children that’s enlightening here. Now keep in mind that, in first century Palestine, children were not thought of well. Certainly not as cute or charming or full of wonder. They were thought of as closer to animals than people, really. Child psychology did not exist. And there was no understanding of the emotional dynamics of kids. So you can imagine that a simple tantrum could seem like a demon possession. 

In the scene, parents are bringing their kids to Jesus so he would bless them with a touch. And the disciples were getting in the way of it, sort of angrily stopping the kids from coming to him. But Jesus scolds the disciples. He said, “No, no. Let them come to me.” As Lacy points out in her book, the word “let” here hints at the idea that the children are already on the way to Jesus. Like they’re naturally inclined to encounter what’s holy in this world. They’re drawn to mystery and awe and truth. But we adults tend to stop them or limit their curiosity. Because we don’t really trust a child’s inner freedom. We want to bridle it or label it or put it in a box.    

After scolding the disciples, Jesus told them, “The kingdom of God is full of people like these children.” You can think of the “Kingdom of God” as a vision for human community that’s centered on wholeness and love and compassion. And part of the creation of this kind of community is re-centering people and behavior and beliefs that get pushed to the margins. Because what gets pushed out isn’t valued by the people in power of the dominant culture. 

Children in the time of Jesus were marginalized because their way of being, their freedom, wasn’t valued. It’s not much different now, if you think about it. The freedom of a child through play and creativity and even silliness eventually gets overshadowed by our expectations of them. Because wonder is not a part of the adult vocabulary. 

So what Jesus is saying here is that there’s something about wonder in the heart of a child that we as adults tend to miss. There’s something we’ve lost touch with, that’s crucial in living out this vision for life he calls “the Kingdom.” In another Gospel scene, he says, “You can’t be a part of the Kingdom if you don’t become like a child.” Jesus is calling us back to wonder. It’s not a luxury or a childish indulgence. It’s part of who we are as human beings. As Lacy put it, “it pings around in our soul.”

[Lacy] One of the things that I've learned is that agendas don't matter as much to children. That adults have agendas and children have experiences. And so I'm setting my agenda aside, which I have had to learn to do, helps me to have a experience with the child. They're going to have one with God, whether or not I decide to tune in or not. But if I'd like to tune in, then I can catch a glimpse of the One who “longed'' them into existence and how that One loves them.

Kids have experiences because they live in the moment. For a kid “now” is everything. They’re not living in the past. And they’re not obsessed with the future. For us adults, letting go of an agenda to have an experience can look like taking a simple walk with a child. Just being present to what they notice, and how they notice. It can reconnect us with what matters most in life.  Encountering the profound hidden in the simple, ordinary, stuff right in front of you. That’s wonder. But you have to be willing to listen for it, to hear it in the voice of a child. And then learn to hear the voice of the child inside you. “Let the children come to me,” Jesus said.

Turns out, children can teach us how to walk. To walk with wonder.

[James] Clare I don’t think you want to walk on this, um, because you might twist your ankle….

I have to confess that in thinking about this episode, I was really hoping to capture one of those contemplative moments with the kids I was talking about earlier. So I’d bring my recorder on many attempts at walks through the neighborhood with them. Trying to capture something, well, wonderful. And I know better. I know. These moments are spontaneous. You can’t force them. And to try to force them only cheapens the whole thing. I get it. But, I had a podcast to do. So …

[James] … Why do we have to find her?  … 

 Now mainly this ended in frustration because I had my “agenda,” to use Lacy’s word. I had my vision for what this whole thing should look like. Until one evening, I sort of gave it up. And just followed their curiosity, instead of directing it. We took the normal route around the block. Stopped at a neighbor’s house for a while to say ‘hi’ to their dog. Nothing remarkable. On the way home, Clare wants to hold the recorder but I don’t let her, so she complains. And then James takes it as a cue to name all the sounds we should record for the podcast. 

[James] … Like you’re recording sounds of things, like dogs and walking and the sound of walking on grass and some on stones and like things ?...  

He names anything that comes to mind and whatever happens to catch his eye as we slowly walk back home. 

[James] … The sounds of lemons and oranges being picked by a trees and also fruits getting picked by machines. Lots of things …

Clare follows along and wants to play too. So she starts by repeating what James says. Points at a plant, “The sound of this,” she says. “Plants don’t really make much sound,'' James says.

[James] … Chalk drawing. Lots of things.

[Seth] I like that.

[Clare inaudible]

[James] Children talking. That kind of rhymes, right?

As I follow his lead and name things I see too, eventually, I realize something. We were praying. Not running down a list of what I think I need or want, but a sacred moment of naming all that was holy in life. Which is all of life. From the mundane to the sublime.

[James] …The sound of bouncing rocks. 

[Seth] The sound of your foot on dirt.

I had just followed the lead of this child right into an encounter with the holy.

[James] …The sound of building nests. Birds talking…

I was humbled.

[James] …Lots of things, huh?

And I was amazed.

[James]  Daddy, did I say all the, um, things? ….

Wonder.

[James] You’re listening to Soul Search.

Act 2 - Play

Another confession: While moments of wonder with my kids are beautiful, the “being present” so I can experience them, that part of wonder Lacy mentioned, has been challenging.  “Letting go” of agendas is hard. When I’m watching the kids, my mind usually goes right to the growing list of things I can’t get to because of them. So, the thought of sacrificing more time to watch them, only to get even less done doesn’t feel so good.  

[James] You want to get “dude-ed” up, Clare?.... 

It’s also hard because I know I’ll spend most of the time managing a melt-down, fight, or some other kind of annoying behavior. 

[James] Dude, I like to hit her in the butt. 

[Seth] No. 

Or at least it seems that way. 

[James] That’s mine!

[Clare] That’s mine! It’s for sharing.

[James] No, it’s not.

[Clare cries]

[Seth] Alright. Alright.

It’s called parenting, I get it. But, really, parenting is just in the background. Anything can trigger a resistance to being present to life. Parenting just happens to be a very strong one.

That’s because the resistance mainly comes down to a need for control. We want to control the way we think our life should be, or the direction we think it should be going. This is what agendas are all about. Determining a desired outcome in life. And whatever gets in the way of it, whatever seems annoying, a waste of time or inconvenient, we’ll resist.

For me, there’s definitely a better version of myself I’m chasing. And that better version does not include a backyard treasure hunt, say, with the kids. I just don’t seem to value it enough. But why?

Fear is beneath the surface here. We want control because we fear that who we are is not enough right now. Or that what we have is not enough. The tricky thing here is that as adults, we think freedom means being in control of life. Control to solve that identity problem of “not enough.” But kids aren’t in control of their lives and yet they’re free. And they’re free, because they know they’re not alone and that their needs will be met. They’re safe.

So there’s a kind of paradox at work here: the freedom to wonder, to explore, to play only comes through a healthy dependency. If a child knows her needs are taken care of, she’ll be open to the world, fascinated by everything around her. She’ll explore. If not, she’ll be needy and compulsive and turned inward. 

Our freedom as human beings depends on our believing that we’re cared for by a power greater than ourselves. That we’ve been “longed into existence,” as Lacy put it. So for us adults, maybe the stumbling block to being present and to experiencing wonder really comes down to what kind of universe we believe we live in. 

Is it a place where something or someone is mysteriously at work in our lives for our own good? Invisible but real nonetheless. And revealing itself to us in moments of wondrous encounter? Or is it a place where we have to make our own way? Where there’s never enough time, money, affirmation, or whatever it is we feel we need, in order to get where we want to go?

 So many of us are hurt, whether we’re in touch with it or not. This is where our fear stems from and our compulsive need for control. It may be a specific childhood trauma that’s the source of it. Or it may be that life just kind of does it to you. We all get wounded along the way.

Whatever the case, we’ve lost that liberating innocence that’s at the core of who we are. Because we’ve come to believe that we can’t trust the universe. The way we’ve come to see the world as adults, clouds the deeper truth of our existence. The thing about wonder, is that it has the remarkable ability to reconnect us with what’s always been true about who we are.

[Lacy] We all have a need to be reconciled to our childhood self and to allow our wonder to be reintegrated into our life because we all had it. We have forgotten, we had wonder before we had wounds and it behooves us to allow the Spirit to resurrect that wonder with us. It cannot be snuffed out because it's part of the image of God that we all bear. 

I think Jesus points us to children. Jesus calls the disciples children. It’s fascinating, isn't it? 21. John 21. Last chapter. Jesus says, “Children.” Was he calling them back? Was he saying, “Remember. Remember. You are always a child in the care of your divine parent of our Mother and Father.”

You were always a child. And further, you're going to need to really pay attention to what children know about life, because they know some things that you've forgotten.

Lacy is referring to the Gospel of John, chapter 21. It’s the book’s last chapter, where Jesus appears to the disciples a final time after being resurrected. 

It’s dawn. They’re out on a boat after a long night of fishing, going about the same work they’d been doing since before they met him. They’ve caught nothing. They’re no doubt tired and ready to come home. Jesus is standing on the shore looking out at them on the lake.

“Children,” he calls out to them. “Have you caught anything?” Before, Jesus had scolded the disciples. “No, let the children come to me.” Now he’s calling them “children.” He’s a hundred or so yards away. They don’t recognize him. “No.” They tell the stranger.

He tells them to cast their net on the other side of the boat. They do and their nets are completely filled. Imagine the amazement on their faces. The awe in their eyes. Nets so heavy they have to drag them to shore. And when they get there, they see the stranger is Jesus. He’s made a fire for them. And warmed some bread and fish.

“Have breakfast,” he says. He gives it to them. And they eat. 

A picture of intimacy and nurture. Of divine care.

The generosity and wonder at work in this scene is a symbol of the generosity and wonder of God. Giving itself to us in the ordinariness of everyday life. But we don’t have to look far for it. It’s right there, on the other side of the boat. We just have to look. As Lacy points out, Jesus calling the disciples “children” wasn’t an insult. It was a reminder. A reminder that innocence lost does not mean we lose touch of the child within us forever. It’s always there. Hidden beneath the wounds, the grief, the trauma. All the things we cover up with our agendas.

Wonder helps get us back in touch with that inner child, the way we were before the wounding. And when we do, when the mystery reveals itself to us, even for a moment. It’s healing. Because we know we’re being held by something or someone we have no words for. We sense how limited our vision of life has become. How limited our sense of self has become.

Agendas can only take us to the boundaries of our limited, coping self. With the gift of wonder, we transcend them. 

Now, this might sound strange, but we have to practice “wonder.” At least in the beginning. It’s a gift, yes. But it’s a gift we have to work on receiving. This is why kids are so helpful here. Because it comes naturally to them. Not so much to us as adults. We tend to have tired, cynical eyes. We need to unlearn our agenda-driven way of being in the world. So that we can see the world for what it actually is. There’s a word for this: “Play.” 

[Lacy] Play gives us a place where we can work out our fears and frustrations of our lives without any consequences. it gives us a place to express how we feel about something without actually hurting someone. So it's a very expressive place for us to park our emotions. And play also gives us a place to discern possibilities. Like, “I wonder what it might look like if we did this.” 

And can I just say, play for adults can look like spreadsheets. Like I have an adult friend who is an accountant. And for her, play is the spreadsheet. You know, she gets the lines all just right. And you can see like this creative, fantastic stuff bubble up in her. This spreadsheet is a piece, it is a work of wonder. I mean, not just because I can't add, but because it just really ignites in her this co-creative thing that she is doing with God. 

So play gives us a way to kind of “loosen up” the straight-jacket our agendas tend to put us in. It gives us a space free of expectations, where there’s no performing. We’re more gentle with ourselves. More gracious with ourselves. 

It’s this relaxing of the demands we have of ourselves, to be a certain way, that allows us to be fully open, fully present to the moment and receive whatever wonder might be stirring there. But this takes practice. And as it becomes more of a habit, wonder can spill over into all of our lives. Like a child we can be led through life by wonder.

[Lacy] One of the ways that we follow in the way of Jesus, when Jesus says, be like this kid – and we all say, “really the nose picking?” but we know that's not what he means – is that we keep ourselves as learners. We realize that we're, we’re learners on the way. So everything we do is going to be loaded with mistakes and failure. And part of our faithfulness as followers of the way is really learning how to screw up And I'll just confess as an Enneagram 3, learning how to screw up is a learning curve for me! Welcoming failure. We have to learn, uh, generosity of spirit.

And really welcoming of a learning posture is connected to what we believe about God. So if we believe that God has created us as beings that are learning on the way, then God has grace for that. If our picture of God is one where it's perfection over process, then we won't learn. We'll shut down. We'll either check out or bail.

And play for adults can look different than kid play. Spreadsheets, for instance. But that doesn’t mean we don’t ever cross the line and wade into kid play. Kid play is good too.

[Lacy] My husband is an emergency room physician. So he's been under an incredible amount of stress during all of this. And the other day he got out of his car after coming home from work. And our youngest, who is very, very playful, just hit him with a snowball. And he had two choices right then. And I think really, he just, he was tired. He just really wanted, you know, to talk with her about throwing snowballs. But instead he just bent down, he picked up a handful and threw it back at her. And they then just stayed outside for, you know, it was what, 10 minute interaction. He won. Where they had this moment of play. And the other thing that play does with us and when we play with another person is it's connective. It connects us. It helps us know, okay after a long day in the emergency room full of COVID patients, I am not alone.

[James] I’m James and this is Soul Search.

 Act 3 - Legos

Okay, so, a word about how I met Steph Chueng. My wife and I were at a friend's house for dinner, along with some other people we hadn’t met. Friends of friends. I sat down next to one of them. And it was Steph. So I’m sitting next to her, eating dinner, chit chatting. And she mentions something about taking a sabbatical leave from work. I ask her if she’s doing anything to help her process things. She says, “Oh, yeah. I’m using Legos.” 

Now this was interesting. You see, my wife and I were a day or so back from a family trip to San Diego. We just took the kids to Legoland. I was right in the middle of working on this podcast episode, thinking about how to really bring home the idea of wonder and play. I had thought, going into the vacation, that I would find inspiration from being immersed in a world of Legos. I was expecting to be surprised. But nothing came of it. Again, forcing my agenda, really didn’t work. So I came back with nothing, and then I sit down next to Steph at this dinner, and she says, “Yeah, I’m using Legos to play as a way to kind of open myself up to new ideas, to discern my calling.”

Now, one thing I’ve learned in my spiritual journey is that you have a choice. You can look at something like this as a simple coincidence, just kind of a random thing and nothing else to it. Or you can look at it as having a deeper meaning. Like things are lining up in a way you can’t control and you should follow the lead. In other words, you can have cynical eyes or curious eyes, eyes of wonder.  So, yeah, of course. I met up with her.

[Seth] Can you take me through your soccer box? 

[Steph] Oh yes.

[Seth] Can I see what’s there?

[Steph] Yeah. So this set includes, um, a little van that includes, uh,  space to transport … . 

Steph has this cool collection of Legos from her childhood. One of her first was a train set that was automated and moved around a track and could drop people off at different places. And she had a house she would use to imagine her future self and family living in. And then there was this soccer field she was showing me. Complete with advertisements surrounding the field, players and a goalie. It even had broadcasters reporting on the game. And an EMT just in case there’s injuries. And a ball the players can kick. 

[Seth] So you actually play a game.

[Steph] You play a game.

[Seth] Oh, I thought it was just like … 

[Steph] Oh no.

[Seth] … a Lego field. But you’re actually playing soccer.

[Steph] Oh you can actually play. So it came with little balls…. 

So you can have a legit soccer game with this Lego set. You play it the way you would foosball. Stephanie played soccer as a kid too, so there’s something about playing with this set that connects her almost viscerally with her childhood. Brings her right back there.

[Steph] … You can, like, block the balls that come your way, And, uh, so you just pass to each other. It’s pretty great.

She bought a couple of new sets. Adult ones. Yes, Legos really aren’t just for kids anymore. The ones she chose all have some echo of personal meaning for her. One in particular connects with her family of origin.

[Seth] This other set you bought, can you describe it?

[Steph]  Yeah, so this one I bought as I was. It was around February, around Chinese New Year time. So as a Chinese American person, I have a high value for family and my family's story. And so when I saw the set, it is called “New Year's Dinner” and New Year's dinner represents, to me, the time in which my family and I celebrate the coming of a new year.

And this felt significant because it looks like me and my family. And I think in this past couple of years of heightened anti-Asian racism and hate something about this set was healing on so many levels for me as a, an adult Chinese person, and also as a child, um, partaking in these meals over the past many years of being part of my family.

And so the set represents, my story. It represents, um, food. So there's a lazy Susan in the middle with a steamed fish, dumplings, lobster, bowls of rice. And I think food has been also very healing for me. And so the set represents my family and food, and those are two things that I have that are also sabbatical themes. 

So this sabbatical for Steph is a time of rest, of reflection, of listening to her deep self and to God as she discerns the next phase in her career. She’s been on staff with a Christian college ministry called InterVarsity for the last 10 years. And she fully recognizes that she does have some privilege here. Not everyone works at a place that offers sabbatical time, which can stretch from a few months up to a year. Also, Legos aren’t cheap. Not everyone can afford to build up a small collection. But she did choose Legos as a way to listen to her soul. And a big part of that is because they have a connection with her childhood. There’s a playful, hopeful wondering she’s trying to root herself in as she listens and discerns. 

And Legos do have a special meaning here. It translates into “play well.”    

[Seth] And how would you interact with these as you were playing with them? Was it a regular practice for you? Was it something that you put together and then you just kind of admired or looked at? Or did you, was there a continual sort of creative process for you? What was that like? 

[Steph] I think in the experiment of play and experimenting with these Legos, I think I didn't necessarily have a plan. It was more of a spontaneous, I'm feeling the desire and the space today to engage with them. And so, um, how Lego packages things now are they give you one to four bags per set.

And so I would open one bag at a time and go through them and kind of build and see what would arise within my soul as I built each part. And something about the wonder of building, you don't really know what you're building. Yes. There's a picture and instructions, but as you're building, you're not sure which part of it is going to come out.

So for example, when I was building this door frame, or even the pebbled stairs in front of this home, as it came to be, and as the creation was happening, I would gasp in delight sometimes and be surprised by the thing that I just made. And it made me wonder about, wow, is this what, like, God was doing in his creation of the world? That He built things as He went and delighted as He went each day.

She would take her time with the sets. Not rushing through just to complete them. Instead, she’d admire the detail, the craftsmanship of the pieces. Marveling at those pebbled stairs in the New Years set, the details of the people’s faces, texture of their hair. “If we rush past it all just to get to the end,” she told me, “something could be lost.” 

[Seth] Interesting to think about, like, play as savoring, and like resting in something. I don't know how well adults really do that. Cause I think you're right, they'll look at a set of Legos. I do it with my son cause he's six now or going to be six soon, and so he's accumulating, he’s accumulating lots of these sets. And I'm like, oh, let's just like, let's build it really fast, so that we can play with it. But what I'm hearing with you is like, play as actually part of the process of putting it together and allowing yourself to kind of, like, enter into the story that's there.

[Steph] Right, right. Yeah. I appreciate that. I mean, when I look back at my six-year-old self playing with my soccer Lego set it was a, “Hey, brother come play with me. Let's use the set to play.” And I think that sense of play was a different kind of play than what you just shared of the creation process itself is the playful part for me as an adult now. As a child and a daughter to my parents and a sister to my brother, there is a lot of weaving of my story into the creation process.

Here’s why talking to Steph about play was so fascinating to me. She was hitting on the idea of play as co-creating. As adults we tend to bring our agenda-driven lives with us, straight into spaces of play. So play becomes about completing a project, or getting it right, or winning. But if there’s a story there for us to enter into, if there’s something there for us to discover, if there’s an experience for us to encounter. Then, as Lacy pointed out earlier, we have to think of ourselves as learners, as in process. Delight and awe is not something you manufacture. It comes as you give yourself over to the moment.

[Seth] Did you learn anything about play? Did anything new emerge or was your idea of play confirmed? I’m wondering if there was a story for you that you were learning to listen to.

[Steph] I think play has helped me to elicit laughter and delight. And I think when those two come together, it is very freeing. I think when I've been playing with these, there's something that's accessed in me that reminds me of childhood and youthfulness. And in some sense, an innocence or like a purity, of there's just genuine wonder and awe here.

How might that apply in my real life and play has helped me access openness, I would say in terms of, for my spiritual life, openness, to hearing the voice of God in a more, less contrived way. There's a sense of adventure that I can just go off and run with abandon.

I remember, um, going on a hike during my sabbatical. And there was a dog that was just running on the beach, chasing a bird with no regard. And I think it was so inspiring. And I, it felt similarly to the wonder that I've experienced in the practice of play of, let me just run. With no, with no thought in mind and just be free. And I wonder if that's what the Lord wants for us in terms of our delight and praise.

[Seth] Are you connected with your inner kid? There's a lot of adults out there who left the inner kid behind. So I'm wondering …  

[Steph] Oh yes, absolutely.

[Seth] Yeah?

[Steph]  I think it comes out in Lego play and in therapy in which I get to interact with and revisit and reconnect with my inner child. Yeah, it's a tender place. It, um, I, again, the pacing is important because it's such a tender thing to access and to, to, to have it come out again and then also how it informs how I am as an adult as well. So, I would say, yeah, my inner child is alive and healing and well and desires to play and connect. 

[Seth] Can I ask what it's like to connect with that inner child as an adult now. Is this, in other words, is it like touching the past or is it that the past is present with you now? I'm wondering what it's like to evoke that inner child in you.

[Steph] Yeah. As an adult daughter to my parents, it is significant to understand and participate in our family dynamics now, and that has required a lot of healing from my childhood. So in the tenderness of accessing my childhood self, there are moments in which these Lego sets will evoke a pain point from my past of, oh, what was my interaction like with my grandma?

Or what was it like to eat at the table with my parents or not? What were those moments where I felt lonely? What were the moments in which there was lack of communication? Where were the moments where I was longing to play, but didn't get a chance to? So as those things arise, building something like this helps me to enter into those pain points and wonder how to pray, how to engage with that as an adult, reflect on how these pain points have shaped me as an adult and how I say things and how I relate with my parents now. 

And so in my thirties, I think my biggest questions are about, Who am I? and What is meaningful and purposeful? And so when doing some of these sets, it really is helpful in my reflection times. Um, while I will journal about what just happened. When I look at my sets, it evokes a sense of memory of, oh yeah, that was what it meant to hug my Winnie the Pooh plushy. That's what it meant on the soccer field. When I was assisting my friend in a goal, um, and these flowers, what is beautiful in our world, what has been, what has God gifted me, um, that I can delight in this week?

And so accessing my childhood self and that tender moment through reflection really helps me to engage and participate in my adult life.

We’re so used to walking through life with our protective armor, our defense mechanisms, that to get in touch with our inner child requires the kind of vulnerability that we’re simply not used to as adults and therefore we resist. But getting in touch with that intuitive, primitive connection we had to the universe as kids, that can be a resource to us spiritually and healing to the wounds that came later on in life. Because we’re reconnected to a story we’ve forgotten. A story of connection and nurture and divine care.

Steph has a photo of her and her grandpa. She’s just shown him the box of the New Years Dinner set she bought. It’s right in front of them and they’re both smiling, with these big grins looking like kids. I asked her about it.  

[Steph] Yeah. So when I bought the set, I had my parents in mind and my grandparents. And so, um, when they came over one day, I was thrilled to show my grandpa this new set, Lego set that I bought. And my favorite part was seeing his face and his interaction with the box. It wasn't even the real set. It was just the box. And so, um, in the limited Cantonese that I knew, I was like, “Hey grandpa, like, look at this new toy that I got.” And he was so delighted to see this grandpa Lego guy that literally is wearing this old grandpa attire with his gray hair…

[Seth] Is that a sweater? Is that a vest? Oh, okay.

[Steph]  It's a certain, um I think a Chinese …

[Seth] Ah, okay.

[Steph] …  uh, traditional vest …

[Seth] Yes.

[Steph] … and there's a grandma that's wearing one and there's the kids with their little envelopes. And so just to see my grandpa, who is in his nineties now, who I don't think has ever played with Legos in his life, um, to see his life depicted in this way and what it meant to me too, and my excitement to, in some ways to honor his life in some way of, “Hey grandpa, I bought the set because it reminds me of all of our dinners that we've had together and the Chinese new years that you've hosted in your home.” 

Um, in the house that we were in, there's literally a lazy Susan in the middle. And I was like, “Look, it's, it's like the one in the kitchen!” And so, I think, um, in that moment, my aunt was also there. And so, um, there were three generations in the room and she snapped a photo of me and my grandpa just delighting together. And how, in some ways, brought us into a place of wonder. 

The wonder of delighting in the simple sounds of life, of a playful snowball fight after work, of savoring the creation of a set of Legos. These moments may seem small, like a respite from the daily grind of life. But in fact, they’re anything but small. They’re a gift we unwrap. A glimpse at the beautiful mystery at the very heart of life. Mystery not in the sense of a problem to be solved, our ego wants to do that. Mystery in the sense that all of life is infused with divine meaning. And we can trust it, if we learn to live like a child again. 

 Coda

[Lacy] I think I was about five years old and we had just moved to Utah from Colorado. Um, my little sister had just died. So this understanding of death was swirling around in my little mind and heart.

I was near the LaSalle mountains in Utah. And I wandered up into a grove of Aspen trees. I was captivated by the glimmering gold leaves and so I laid down on my back and smelled the sponginess of the earth. And I just had a sense that I wasn't alone and that whoever was with me loved me.

Later I learned this “someone” had some characteristics that was God. But at the time I just had this pervasive sense of, I'm actually not by myself. Even as I considered my sister's death as a child and I considered, What does death mean? And all of those kinds of things. What is sadness and grief? Um, I was not alone in it. And somehow those Aspen trees hosted me well.

And I can still sort of carry the smell and the feel with me today. It's been a bit of a way marker for what is north. Saying, “Remember, you knew this. You knew this.” Reminder. Reminder. We are all connected and we are never alone.

 Credits

This episode of the Soul Search podcast was written and produced by me, Seth Dickson. Special thanks to my guests, Lacy Finn Borgo and Steph Cheung. There’s a link in the show notes to learn more about Lacy’s work including her upcoming books.

And thanks as well to my kids, James and Clare, for letting me follow you guys around with my recorder in hand for the last month or so. You’ve been great sports.

And thanks to you for listening and letting me be a part of your soul search. If you like what you heard please give us a rating wherever you get your podcast. It really helps get the word out.