What does it mean to be a broken toy? One of the ways we talk about the role of the playor, aka the DvT practitioner, is as a broken toy, beloved but beat up by the world, like the velveteen rabbit. We are all a bit broken, our attachments challenged by our family dynamics, our bodies suffering from ailments, our imaginations limited by what we have seen and heard. We bring with us the history of our harms, the weight of systemic oppressions, and the pressure to be unplayful, in fact very very serious, because the world is very serious and its problems are Extremely serious. Death, mental illness, war, suicide, eating disorders, sexual assault, racism… it’s all so serious. But being a broken toy means also being willing to be played with despite our missing and broken parts. We allow the player to encounter us, project their ideas and beliefs and desires onto us, and we give them something to bounce off of, be chased by, be held by. We bring a deep knowing that once-loved toys feel, that it doesn’t matter what you look like or whether you’ve got it all together, there’s comfort in being seen and known and familiar. You do not need to be perfect to help others become more alive, connected, and free. In fact, it kinda helps not to be.
Leave a Reply