Why do I organize my kids' play but never play myself?
I once arranged a whole wedding for my village — musicians, lamb, tables under the walnut tree. Then I stood by the wall all night, watching everyone dance. A friend said, 'Nasreddin, why don't you dance?' I said, 'Someone has to arrange the dancing.' He said, 'But you love to dance.' I said, 'Arranging is a kind of dancing.' Then I stood by that wall until the musicians went home. You did the same thing, only smaller and every day. You picked the game, set the rules, refereed the fairness, and told yourself watching was your job. It felt responsible. It felt like love. But somewhere the wall became a habit, and now you don't remember choosing it. This isn't about being a bad parent. You built something good — a safe, well-run game. The only flaw is you're not in it. Playing badly, in front of your children, on purpose, is not a step down from arranging. It might be the whole point of the wall coming down.
You did not become the referee because you stopped loving the game. You became the referee because someone has to hold the snacks, and once you held the snacks, everyone believed that was your seat. Nobody assigned it. Sit down. The game does not mind a bad player who is having fun.
What changes unlock by starting
- You catch yourself mid-sentence, right before you step back to arrange instead of play.
- You have at least one real memory of playing badly and loving it.
- Your children start seeing you as a fellow player, not only the one in charge.
- The line between arranging and playing gets blurry — in a good way.