My favorite video-games are the ones I initially suck at, where I struggle to achieve even the smallest victory. I’m lost and confused and overwhelmed. I figure I should quit but for whatever reason I don’t, I can’t. I just grind away with little perceptible progress. But then the switch flips, Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds. I am the living incarnation of power and my opponent lives by my will alone. But after that initial feeling of triumph and mastery I mellow out and go through the motions for awhile until I move on to something new and different.
It’s probably not a coincidence that when entering this life I was lost, confused, and overwhelmed. Yet I didn’t quit, I kept going, experiencing only the tiniest of victories. But underlying my path was a sense of power. A power I could never focus. At this midpoint of life, I wonder if the turning point is near, when I might be ready to wield that power.
Every game needs a quest or opponent, and perhaps my nemesis in this world is Maya/Mara the Tempter — not in a bad way, just a playful way. So I’ve been busily setting up booby-traps to catch life when it attempts to ensnare my attention. Now whenever something goes awry, I identify it immediately as one of life’s little funhouse tricks.
Yet I’m leaving the door wide-open if life would like to captivate me in pleasant ways. I don’t question good feelings and just soak in the warmth. After all, this could just be an open-ended game with no point whatsoever — where the only goal is to have fun. Maybe that’s the riddle I’m to solve, who knows.