How to Build a World, Dirt Pile by Dirt Pile

Long before Fortnite, there were dirt piles.  Really big ones, on the construction sites where my dad worked.  The battles my siblings and I waged while scampering up and over those dirt piles could’ve given Battle Royale a run for its V-Bucks. And with much lower production costs (minus the IRL bloodshed of skinned knees).  

 I know, sounds like old-lady nostalgia.  But it’s not like we were deprived of gadgets: we also had a Nintendo and a boxy little Apple on which we could zap the pixelated aliens of “Spacequarks. I’m not saying that wasn’t fun too. But we really loved big piles of dirt.  

 When I started leading creativity workshops I was sure I would get techno blowback from the kids. I thought they wouldn’t want to sit still and write for very long.  Or they would want to type everything on their devices and use unicorn emojis instead of punctuation. 

 Instead, to date, no one has brought in a single ipad or laptop to a workshop.  They all write by hand, on lined paper in regular old notebooks. And every session includes a kid who mentions how much they love the feel of the pages getting all crinkly under hand as they fill with writing.  The kids have all been happy to sit for an hour, sometimes more, writing for 10 minutes and then reading what they wrote to each other. Which has blown my mind, and made me wonder...

 Someone recently mentioned the word psychoterratic to me.  Ever heard it?  It’s the trauma caused by being disconnected from nature.  I think disconnection from dirt piles and sticks and pens and crisp white pieces of paper is also traumatic.  We are of the physical world and we need to interact with it, to play with it.   

 Also recently, a friend of mine put forth a theory that points to one of the causes of psychoterraticism: that the speed of technological advancement is more than our minds can process, resulting in traumatic effects on individuals and societies. I feel her point and see it enacted all around us--technology is superseding our physical connection to each other and the environment, connections we need in order to make sense of ourselves and how we fit into the cosmic order of things.     

 Based on what I’ve seen of the kids in the workshops, and my nephews and nieces--who love their devices but also love plastic dinos, and swingsets and, yes, playing with sticks in the dirt--there is a natural inclination towards physical expression and play.  Even if parts of the brain are enticed by the hyper-vivid entertainment of the devices, there’s still a visceral part of us that wants to go play in the dirt, or feel the pages getting crinkly under our hands, or read out loud to others our terrible but funny latest story. 

 This need for physical expression and interaction also speaks to two important factors for healing from trauma. 1.) Embodiment—being in your body, using your body to interact with the world.  2.) Connecting to others—in real time, with those who share space with you.  And I would add a third, less-talked about component of healing: 3.) Imagination.  These three things together are literally world-building powers, and they are why we had so much fun with our giant piles of dirt. Sure, you can build virtual worlds, and that’s fun too. But there’s something extra satisfying and enriching about building your world with your own two hands, whether it be with sticks and dirt or pens and crinkly paper.   

 This week’s assignment: Mud pies.  Yes, you read that right. Mud pies.  Preferably with a friend. And like I said, I’m not opposed to technology, so post your recipes/pictures with pride.