To Be or Not to Be – Is to Have

Still, the line is useful — as an introduction, or perhaps as a little bridge to a thought.
With some luck and a bit of hope, maybe even to several thoughts.

Three-quarters of the sentence are borrowed from Shakespeare — yes, a touch of literary plagiarism.
But when it comes to that final quarter, the “is to have,”
dear William would likely protest with hands, feet, and feather quill.
Because his original had meaning — one at the front, and one at the back.

“To be or not to be” is much more than a rhetorical phrase.
It’s a compact expression of human fear and equally human hope —
a line that has travelled through centuries because it captures the constant hum of our existence.
Shakespeare gave those words to Hamlet to mirror the search for meaning in a mysterious and often senseless world.

Or something like that.

So much for the riddle at the beginning.
Now to the next question: playfulness.

Should we be playful, or not playful?
Ah — now a bit of forest light breaks through the trees.

Those who approach life playfully often find new, creative, and surprisingly effective solutions.
Playfulness breaks old patterns, turns traditions upside down — sometimes elegantly, sometimes chaotically, but always with life in it.

We often forget that evolution isn’t a closed chapter.
It’s an ongoing process — playful, curious, and constantly learning.

The children of Finland, for instance, aren’t known as the world’s best students by accident.
They spend an astonishing amount of time on the school playground — yes, actually playing.
At Google, play is even written into the employment contract.
So, playfulness isn’t the opposite of achievement — it’s often its very foundation.

But what about the “is to have” part?
Well, that’s a matter of perspective.

“She is playful” sounds charming.
“She has played” sounds… final.
Maybe she wouldn’t have lost, if she’d played more to begin with.
At least in theory.

Right now, the world’s political stage shows a dangerously different kind of playfulness —
the kind that toys with war.
A power game that feels like a dark board game with deadly pieces —
and tastes disturbingly like a Cold War reheat.

In budget planning, military spending still tops the list —
a number rarely questioned, because “security” is called the highest good.
Even Canada, our self-declared peace nation, has now set a record-high defence budget.

And so, out of pure playfulness, a thought popped up:
How much would peacekeeping actually cost —
and what if governments had the courage to invest in peace
with the same passion they invest in weapons?

How fascinating would a country be that approached problems playfully —
took them seriously, yes, but solved them with creativity and a light touch?
A politics not driven by fear,
but by imagination — and care for its citizens.

Or, to put it simply:

To be playful, or not to be — but to have peace.