Virtus 👊 #030: The Power of Play: Why Modern Men Need More Fun in Their Lives

Remember when you were a kid and Saturday mornings meant hours of pure, unfiltered joy?

When Did We Forget How to Have Fun?

Remember when you were a kid and Saturday mornings meant hours of pure, unfiltered joy? Maybe you were building forts out of couch cushions, riding bikes until the street lights came on, or losing track of time playing video games with friends. Back then, "what are we gonna do today?" was the best question in the world because every answer held infinite possibilities.

Fast forward to today. I'm sitting here in a quiet moment, cup of coffee slowly getting cold, and I'm asking myself: when was the last time I truly played? Not exercised with a fitness tracker counting every step. Not "networked" at some industry mixer. Not checked off another productivity box on my endless to-do list. Just... played. Lost myself in something purely for the joy of it.

If you're scratching your head trying to remember, welcome to the club. Membership's growing by the minute.

The Great Masculine Fun Robbery

Somewhere between our first paycheck and our first mortgage payment, society pulled off the greatest heist in masculine history. They stole our permission to have fun. It wasn't a dramatic theft—no masked bandits breaking down doors. Instead, it happened slowly, almost imperceptibly, like watching paint dry in reverse.

"Grow up," they said, as if joy had an expiration date. "Act your age," they insisted, as if fun expired with your 30th birthday. "Be serious," they demanded, as if laughter and responsibility couldn't share the same zip code.

And before we knew it, that guy who used to spend hours mastering skateboard tricks or jamming on guitar—the one who could lose an entire weekend to a video game without checking his phone once—became the guy who only talks about work, bills, and which investment portfolio performs better in a bear market.

I know this transformation intimately because I lived it. I became the poster child for productive masculinity, the man who measured his worth in spreadsheets and quarterly reports.

My Journey Back from the Fun Famine

Let me paint you a picture of my life not too long ago. Monday through Friday, I was locked in what I called "The Grind Cycle": wake up, check email, coffee, work, grab fast food, more work, maybe squeeze in some exercise (because health is productivity, right? I am still obese…), collapse into bed, and repeat. Weekends? They were just a chance to catch up on work I'd fallen behind on during the week.

Sure, I had my escape valve—Overwatch, the online shooter game where I could pretend to be a cybernetic ninja (Hanzo main) or an android adventurer for a few hours. But even that felt hollow after a while. Gaming alone in my room at 2 AM, headphones on so I wouldn't wake anyone, wasn't really playing. It was more like digital anesthesia.

The wake-up call came when I watched my own kid falling into the same monotonous rhythm. School, screen, eat, sleep, repeat. Where was the wonder? Where was the imagination that used to turn cardboard boxes into spaceships?

That's when I started researching local Dungeons & Dragons groups. Yes, D&D—the game I used to mock as "that nerdy thing people do in basements." But here's what I discovered: those "nerds" were onto something. The thought of sitting around a table, creating stories, letting my imagination run wild without performance metrics or ROI calculations? It felt like finding a piece of myself I'd buried under years of "adulting."

The Science of Rediscovering Joy

Here's what surprised me most: science actually backs up what every kid instinctively knows. Play isn't just fun—it's fundamental to our wellbeing. Studies conducted by researchers at UCLA and Stanford show that play triggers the release of endorphins, those natural mood elevators that antidepressants try to replicate. It reduces cortisol (the stress hormone that's probably through the roof if you're reading this during a "quick work break"), increases creativity, and actually improves our problem-solving abilities.

Dr. Stuart Brown, founder of the National Institute for Play, spent decades studying this. His research revealed something that should make every productivity guru nervous: adults who regularly engage in play are more adaptable, show greater emotional intelligence, and are significantly less prone to depression. They also maintain better relationships and—this is the kicker—are often more successful in their careers, not less.

Think about it. Some of the most innovative breakthroughs in history came from people who approached problems playfully. The Post-it note? Created because someone was trying to make a better bookmark. The first Apple computer? Built by two guys having fun in a garage (I still hope this is true).

So when someone tells you that hour spent playing games is "wasted time," you can scientifically tell them they're wrong. It's not wasted—it's invested in your mental health portfolio.

The Cultural Conspiracy Against Adult Play

But here's the deeper issue: our culture has systematically stripped men of their right to play. Think about the messages we get bombarded with daily:

• "Real men work hard" (as if playing hard isn't equally valuable)

• "Time is money" (so fun becomes an expense we can't afford)

• "Act professional" (translation: suppress anything that might make you seem human)

• "Boys and their toys" (dismissing adult play as immature)

We've created a society where a man playing video games is seen as failing to launch, but a man watching other men throw a ball around on TV is somehow participating in proper masculine culture. Where sitting at a desk for 60 hours a week is admirable, but taking time to laugh with friends is suspicious.

This isn't just sad—it's dangerous. Men are experiencing record levels of loneliness, anxiety, and depression. Suicide rates continue to climb. And while there are many factors at play, the elimination of play from adult men's lives cannot be overlooked.

Five Pathways Back to Playfulness

1. Resurrect Your Abandoned Dreams

Remember that guitar gathering dust in the corner? The one that cost three paychecks but hasn't been touched since that time you realized you'd never be Eric Clapton? Pick it up. Not to become a virtuoso. Not to start a side hustle as a wedding musician. Pick it up because making terrible noise while learning three chords can transport you back to a time when creating something imperfectly was perfectly acceptable.

Or that basketball in the garage. The one you used to shoot for hours, imagining you were hitting game-winners in Game 7 of the NBA Finals. Find a hoop. Shoot some free throws. Remember how it feels to focus on nothing but the arc of the ball and the swish of the net.

2. Build Your Tribe Through Play

The most profound loneliness isn't being alone—it's being surrounded by people you never truly connect with. Game nights are relationship accelerants. Whether it's board games that make everyone act ridiculous, video games that let you form virtual assault teams, or poker games where money isn't really the point—these shared experiences create bonds that networking events never could.

Can't gather in person? Online communities are evolving beyond toxic gaming culture. I recently joined an online D&D group with guys from across the country. Every Tuesday night, for three hours, we're not defined by our job titles or bank accounts. We're wizards and warriors solving problems creatively. Last week, our solution to a complex puzzle involved a rubber chicken, a deck of cards, and what we dubbed "aggressive magical hugging." When was the last time you laughed that hard with other men?

3. Transform Family Time into Playtime

Be the dad who gets grass stains on his knees. Be the uncle who's always ready for a pillow fort construction project. Stop supervising playtime and start participating in it. Your kids don't need you to watch them play—they need you to play with them.

This isn't about being your child's best friend. It's about modeling a crucial life skill: the ability to embrace joy unashamedly. When your kids see you building Lego spaceships with the same focus you bring to spreadsheets, they learn that adulthood doesn't mean abandoning wonder.

And yes, chase your dog like you're both puppies at the park. Roll on the ground. Make silly voices. Dogs have mastered the art of living in the moment—they don't need human validation to play. Learn from them.

4. Revolutionize Your Workday with Micro-Play

Corporate culture has this backward. They think ping pong tables and casual Fridays count as "fun culture." Real workplace play is subversive. It's taking those moments between meetings and choosing joy over email checking.

Watch a 5-minute comedy clip. Draw elaborate doodles during conference calls (studies show it actually improves retention). Have absurd conversations with colleagues about which Marvel character would make the best accountant or which dinosaur would dominate at chess.

These micro-rebellions against constant productivity are acts of resistance. They're reminders that you're a whole person, not just a resource to be optimized.

5. Embrace the Liberation of Incompetence

Here's the terrifying truth: you've probably become really good at things that bore you to death. You can create flawless PowerPoint presentations, manage projects efficiently, and probably change your own oil. But when was the last time you were hilariously bad at something new?

Sign up for improv classes and bomb spectacularly. Join a recreational sports league where winning isn't the point. Take up painting and create masterpieces that look like they were made by particularly enthusiastic toddlers.

Being terrible at something new is liberating because it strips away the identity you've built around competence. Nobody's asking for your TPS reports at open mic night. You're just a guy trying something new, and that's beautiful in its simplicity.

Redefining Masculine Success

The most radical thing a modern man can do is admit he values joy. Not as a reward for productivity, but as an essential component of a life well-lived. The truly strong man is one who can dominate a boardroom at 3 PM and enthusiastically participate in a Nerf gun battle at 7 PM without feeling his masculinity is threatened by either activity.

I've met men who build rockets for NASA and spend weekends larping in the woods. Surgeons who paint. CEOs who do improv comedy. They're not successful despite making time for play—they're successful because of it. Their ability to access different parts of their personality makes them more creative, more adaptable, and ultimately more effective at everything they do.

Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept Fun

Here's your assignment for the coming week, and I dare you to treat it as seriously as you'd treat any work deliverable:

1. Do one thing purely for enjoyment - No outcome required beyond "I want to"

2. Make it social - Involve at least one other person in your play

3. Permission to fail spectacularly - In fact, aim for it

4. Zero monetization pressure - If someone asks if you could make money from it, change the subject

5. Measure your success in smiles - How much did you laugh? That's your KPI

Whether it's finally joining that local improv dance group, organizing a neighborhood scavenger hunt, or just having a serious lightsaber duel with pool noodles in your backyard—do something that reminds you why being alive is amazing.

The Revolution Starts With One Laugh

Here's the uncomfortable truth: our fathers and grandfathers sacrificed their playtime so we could have opportunities. Many of them went decades without truly playing because they felt they couldn't afford to. The greatest way to honor their sacrifice isn't to continue their deprivation—it's to build a life where joy and responsibility coexist.

The revolution won't be televised. It'll be played. In living rooms where adults rediscover board games. In backyards where grown men play catch. In garages where middle-aged musicians jam despite being rusty. In community centers where D&D groups form unlikely fellowships.

You're not having a midlife crisis. You're having a midlife awakening.

Life's too short to postpone joy until "someday when things settle down." Things never settle down. They just get different. And if we're not careful, we'll look back wondering where all the fun went.

So go ahead. Permission definitively granted. The world won't end if you prioritize happiness. In fact, it might just get a little brighter.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a D&D character sheet to finish creating. My half-orc bard has a lute to tune and dragons to awkwardly serenade. What's your quest for this week?

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The Measure of a Man: The best men aren't the ones who never play. They're the ones who refuse to forget how to have fun, no matter how many birthday candles they've blown out. Because at the end of the day, what matters isn't how productive you were—it's how fully you lived.

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