the universe is an algorithm.
- courtneyzano
- Apr 17, 2025
- 4 min read
I sit down to write this post and begin by typing this line: The more I’ve embraced playfulness in my adult life, the more opportunities for play have popped up around me.
I get that far before procrastination takes over. Suddenly, I am on Instagram.
I see this post that says: The Universe Is An Algorithm.
It occurs to me how deeply resonate the words are. It’s the red car theory—you see more red cars when you’re actively looking for red cars.
I’ve seen more play as I’ve actively looked for more play.
And I’ve intentionally tried to weave more fun and play into my life over the past year. I’ve purchased a mini trampoline that I keep in my office for jumps of inspiration. I keep a list of “daily magic” in which I have a special emoji to note any fun or playful things that happened. I sing along to Disney songs with my niece and nephew. I ride bikes that are made for toddlers alongside my niece, my knees bumping awkwardly against the handlebars with each pedal. I do handstands against my walls and cartwheels across the grass.
I remember the Courtney I was as a child. I loved fantasy worlds and creating things from my imagination and doing crafts and making cities with chalk and speeding down my driveway on a tricycle and jumping rope and dancing and singing and looking at the clouds and just being completely lost in my own worlds of imaginary fun.
And one day, that turned into many days, that Courtney had to go to school and get a degree and then a job and be told what to do and what path to follow and her imagination got stuffed down into her.
it’s what happens to most of us.
And we are left as adults with no spare time for hobbies—especially daydreaming. Life and responsibilities make us serious. And in that seriousness, we find more seriousness.
Until the day your inner child reaches up from her corner in your heart and says, “Please, play with me?”
And you either meet her request or you tell her, lovingly, “Later.”
I’ve been trying to answer her call more frequently.
When I see a hula hoop in my parents’ garage as I’m working out, I pull it down and starting playing instead of sticking to my regimen of reps and sets.
I find pockets of play and fun—small moments that can easily be missed—and try to honor the childlike awe that still exists inside of me.
And as I embrace those moments, more and more of them fall into my lap.
And as I share about them, more people tell me that they’re finding more play in their lives, too.
I share a post on Instagram that’s a carousel of pictures that I find playful. You see still moments of me as I jump on my trampoline, I dance with my nephew, I run with my niece, I tell a silly joke, I wear silly outfits. In the caption, I write:
“p l a y f u l n e s s 🤸🏼♀️to me? it means letting yourself be free. allowing yourself to do the things you want to do, without the fear of someone watching you or judging you. it means releasing your tight grip on control and the cycles of ‘seriousness’ that our world wants to force on us. it means being silly. taking time to dance. taking time to run, jump, spin. it means big smiles and deep laughter.”
This is my most engaged post of 2025.
I don’t think it’s by accident.
I think that by sharing moments of my genuine joy, other people stopped and noticed. They took the time to actually look and engage. To like. To comment. It broke up the seriousness of their day (and their feed) and pulled out a small smile. It gave a sigh of reprise from this world that seems to always be marching ahead.
People send me DMs about how it inspired them. One friend told me that just seeing my post inspired her to run through the sprinklers on her walk instead of avoiding them altogether.
When I meet up with my childhood bestie for lunch, she brings me a mini turtle sandbox, modeled after the one that was in my yard for most of my childhood. She tells me that she just had to get it for me. That it reminded her of our childhood days spent playing in my backyard. That it took her back.
And gosh, does it take me back as I roll the fake sand between my fingers.
A few days later, a girl in one of my online communities shared that as a child, she loved eating chocolate Pop-Tarts after school. When she saw a more natural brand of chocolate Pop-Tarts at the grocery store recently, she bought them and her childhood joy was instantly ignited.
Other girls chimed in the chat with their favorite childhood snacks. I was reminded of Dunkaroos and Twix yogurt and Keebler Vienna Fingers and vanilla wafers. Sugar-high little Courtney did backflips in my stomach just thinking about them.
It’s little moments. The teeny, tiniest moments that bring you into joy. Fleeting moments and memories that linger behind on your bones like pixie dust.
And as your filter of the world shifts back into one of wonder and awe, you’ll be shown more opportunities for play.
the universe gives you what you look for.
The Universe Is An Algorithm.
When was the last time you checked your life algorithm?
xx
Court.
Comments