The Weight of Play

I remember a dusty alleyway in Cairo where a group of boys were using a discarded plastic bottle as a football. They weren’t playing for a trophy or a crowd; they were playing for the sheer, kinetic joy of movement. One boy, no older than seven, stood with his chest puffed out, mimicking the bravado of the men he saw on the street corners. It was a performance of strength, a way to claim space in a world that often overlooks the small. We spend so much of our adult lives trying to build status, but there is something profoundly honest about the way a child does it. They don’t need the world to agree with them; they only need the game to continue. It is a reminder that dignity isn’t something granted by circumstance, but something we carry within us, even when the ground beneath our feet is uneven. What are the games you still play to remind yourself of your own strength?

Ryszard Wierzbicki has captured this spirit perfectly in his image titled Big Muscles. It brings me right back to that alleyway, seeing that same fierce, unburdened pride. Does this image remind you of a time when you felt invincible?