On International Mud Day, our Educated by Nature team had the opportunity to support Nature Play WA and the Shire of Serpentine Jarrahdale at their Muddy Buddies event in Jarrahdale. Thousands of children came through across four sessions, exploring mud in all its forms—sliding, building, digging, and, of course, throwing it.
What struck me most throughout the day was the subtle but significant difference that playwork made to the atmosphere and flow of the event. We were there not as general supervisors, but as playworkers – people trained to read energy, hold space, and respond to children’s play in ways that guide and support, rather than manage and control.
Holding Space, Not Controlling Behaviour
There was a moment early on when one of the educators employed for the event became overwhelmed by a group of children throwing mud in ways that didn’t suit the space. Understandably, she wasn’t quite sure how to respond without simply shutting the play down.
That’s where the playwork lens helped. Rather than telling children “no,” we offered a redirection:
“Mud fights are brilliant—but let’s take that energy to the designated pit. We need to preserve this mountain for the next three groups.”
Children responded well to this kind of invitation because it respected their energy and gave it a place to land. We weren’t trying to dampen their spirit, just give it direction.
Often what adults perceive as “bad behaviour” is really just unmet need or misdirected energy. Children bring their full selves to spaces like this: busy minds, excitable bodies, strong emotions. As playworkers, we expect that. Our role is to read it and work with it.
There’s a permaculture principle that says there’s no such thing as waste, just stuff in the wrong place. The same applies to children’s energy. When energy is too big for a space, or the space hasn’t been set up to receive it, behaviour can become challenging. But if we design for that energy and meet it with play, the whole atmosphere changes.
Sculpting the Play Together
At Mud Mountain, children wanted to wrestle, dig, throw, build castles, make sculptures, and test structures for strength. One group started shaping a snake up the side of the mountain. Others sat on it, not realising it was part of someone’s play.
Rather than stepping in with solutions, I supported the children to negotiate and restore their creation, giving them mud and asking questions like “Where would you like me to place this?” or “Can you show me how you want it to look?” My role wasn’t to fix or lead, but to resource their ideas and help them keep the play going.
Similarly, when the hose created too much runoff and was starting to destroy the mountain, we shifted its use to a grassed area and encouraged children to carry mud from the base back to the top. This transformed them into helpers and problem-solvers rather than rule-breakers.
We talked with the musician at the event about pacing music to support the flow of energy with lively songs to meet the rush at the start and softer tones toward the end to help bring things down. It’s another layer of playwork – creating atmosphere that supports self-regulation through sensory cues rather than instructions.
In the big mud pit, where the throwing happened, we introduced simple agreements: “Let’s aim for below the waist, legs only.” Framing it this way allowed space for the play while still protecting other children’s safety. We found that with a bit of humour and clear expectations, most children were keen to play within the boundaries.
Resourcing the Play to Prevent Problems
One of the challenges of the event was how compacted some areas of mud became. Kids couldn’t engage with it easily, and when the environment doesn’t meet the needs of the play, frustration starts to creep in.
So we dug. A lot. I worked with a fantastic woman from the water truck and together we churned up the clay and added water, creating new textures and playable spaces. We protected key areas, like the small “mud spa” zone, by reconfiguring access, breaking up limited clay resources into smaller portions, and creating quieter corners with visual boundaries.
Supporting All Ages—and All Kinds of Energy
One of our strengths as a team is working across age ranges. Whether it’s getting down low with toddlers, inviting hesitant children to paint their parents’ faces before their own, or welcoming teens into wild, high-energy play, our goal is always the same: make everyone feel seen, safe, and part of the experience.
At one point, three teens who had made fast friends began to dismantle the mountain. Nature Play WA staff understandably stepped in, but the teens weren’t ready to stop playing. They weren’t being destructive, they were just still full of energy and unsure where to put it.
I joined them with a shovel and said, “You’ve got loads of energy. Want to help me dig a deeper pit?”
They came willingly, one commenting that the shovel was too long, so we adapted. They dug with their hands. We started burying their feet. Then someone wanted to be completely covered in mud. It became sensory, cooperative, and creative again.
One of them confided: “We just met. We don’t want to stop playing yet, this is the only time we’ll see each other.” That kind of insight only comes when you approach children with curiosity and openness, rather than correction.
Less Rules, More Relationship
Towards the end of the day, the city coordinator commented, “Maybe we need more rules.” But, looking around at the event, the playwork approach demonstrated that when we meet children in their play, anticipate needs, and create spaces that hold their energy, we often don’t need extra rules. We need presence, relationship, and responsiveness.
That’s not to say this approach is easy. As facilitators, we take a very active role, engaging with kids as individuals. The result is a safe play environment, where children are empowered to explore, learn and self-regulate.
Final Thoughts
For educators, this kind of playwork approach can feel like a shift from the usual supervision model. It requires us to be proactive rather than reactive, collaborative rather than directive, and flexible rather than firm. But it’s also deeply rewarding.
At events like Muddy Buddies, where sensory play, high excitement, and large crowds meet, it’s easy for things to tip into chaos. But with a playwork lens, we can hold space for all the energy children bring, and even find joy in the mud alongside them.
You can click here to find out more about our community events.
