Games - 058

Hey friend,

 
 

On Your Marks

I play games every day.
The problem is that I don't know when the games start or how to play.
I'll tell Golda,  "It's time for bed. Now!"
And she'll say "It's time for bed. Now!"

Game on.
Ok, Golda... "I'm a stinky diaperface who likes to eat poop soup."
"Ew you do?!"

Clearly, she's outsmarted me and I don't always win.
Sometimes we play Parrot. Sometimes, imagination. Sometimes it's Dress Up in the Fort.
Or my personal favorite: Who Can Be the Fastest? (to get ready, clean up, to the car, and the list goes on...)

I'm realizing that so much of my day (typically but not exclusively with my kids) is spent playing games.
And making them up. And sometimes just trying to figure out the rules.

This month, I'm thinking about games.
What makes something a game? What are the games we play in our heads to pass the time or even make sense of the world?
What happens when we see the whole world as a game?

Have fun out there.

 

Illustration by Alva Skog

 

Rules or Jokes?

We're sitting at the table playing Rummikub. It is, after all, Thursday night.
My brother Jordan is taking a long time with his turn and my dad pulls out a timer.
That starts a chain reaction. Jordan gets flustered. Dad gets competitive. Lauren cracks a joke about having a timer in the first place.

And I start to wonder:
Which is making the game more fun: the rules or the jokes?

I come from a pretty competitive family, so I'm pretty much all-in on Team Rules.
Without rules, there is no game.
If Michael Jordan just ran up and down the court without dribbling the ball, punching out the defenders, it might be entertaining, but it's certainly not fun.
We need rules to establish a shared understanding of what we're engaging in.
Rules make the game.

But then, I think, if I'm only playing to win, then I'm also sort of missing the point.
The point is a shared experience and activity. We play for connection.

I recently read Catherine Price's book "The Power of Fun" where she defines fun.
It's sort of silly, but it's worth thinking of your own definition for a minute.
What does fun mean?
And we're talking about "real fun", not just like how you would describe a C+ movie or a work happy hour as "fun."
She defines fun as the confluence of connection, playfulness, and flow.

Playing with other people and having small talk is connective.
Telling jokes brings playfulness.
And flow– the idea of complete immersion in an experience where we lose track of time– well, that comes from structure. Rules.

Maybe it's not an either/or.
Maybe fun can be both/and.

 
 

I Love My Life the Way It Is

In a casino, any player on a long enough timeline loses to the house.
Unless she changes the game.

See, the understood goal of playing at a casino is to win money.
But if a player is simply there for the enjoyment, or entertainment, to see how long her money will last, she can always win.
The house never wins.

She can change the game.

An old classmate of mine, Ali Alvarez, did just that.
She created an amazing project called "I Love My Life The Way it Is."
All she did was collect and photograph scratch-off lottery tickets.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
And all of them, unscratched.

She played a different game.

To her, the goal wasn't to win money. She was a designer and each ticket was an object of design, worthy of appreciating.
The collection was making a statement and made you see something in a new way.

It made us uncomfortable to flip through the pages and pages of photographs.


It made us uncomfortable because we were forced to ask ourselves the same question that she presented in the title.

So...do you?

 

One of thousands of photos.  "I Love My Life the Way it Is" a collection of unscratched lottery tickets by Ali Alvarez

 

A Whole New World

When I was little, I constantly played games by myself in my head. Don't step on a crack. Run up stairs and count each one in 3s.
As we were driving in the car, I'd think Mario was running beside us, jumping over garbage cans and obstacles.
Silly, right? Child's play.

But there's a benefit to playing games like these, even as adults.
It changes the way we see the world.

Lately, I've been making up, learning, and playing some of these games by myself:

I mentioned one in May's Refrigerator called Post Mortem: imagine you've died and you get to come back for one day...today.

Stranger's Secret Ally: choose a stranger to follow and help them, without them knowing.

5 Minutes, Now: If you don't want to do a task, just commit to 5 minutes now. Once you start, you'll likely keep going.

Be An Alien: You've just landed on Earth. Pay attention to how things are happening and see the world for the first time.

Mindful eating: Pay attention to texture, flavors, temperature.

The Last Time: Imagine that whatever it is you're doing is the last time you'll ever get to do it.

Habit Tracking: When I want to do something more (e.g. nap, read, or write) or less (e.g. drink), I track it every day.

Playing games might seem childish. But these games just exist in our head (as is the self-criticism). So who cares?

Games can make mundane events seem beautiful.
Games can transform us into more compassionate people.
Games can help overcome procrastination and start something big.

We are designed for games.
(Or maybe better, games are designed for us and how we think).
When we introduce some new rules, suddenly the whole world changes.

It's a place to play.
Game on.

 
 

Permission to Play

Our kids' school is a glorified daycare.
Or at least that's the general criticism of it.
There's no official curriculum.
No Montessori-inspired, Waldorf-esque, Goddard-ish structure.

When asked, the faculty insists that it's simply a play-based school.

So many parents are asking: are our kids being challenged? Are they bored?
I was asking too.

And then, recently I stopped.

In adulthood, we distinguish between the activities that provide value to the world and those that don't. In other words, activities that can generate money in a capitalist society and the others. It's why we as a society devalue mothers and invisible labor at home. It's why we diminish art and artists and feel the need to work, like, all the time.

It's why we criticize a school for being play-based, instead of teaching them "life skills."
(pshhhh, as if play isn't a life skill)

My kids will have the rest of their lives to feel challenged.
To worry about reading levels and math tutors and compare themselves to the achievements of their peers.
It's taking a lot of effort for Lauren and I to say that we don't care if they're bored. That being bored is good.

And that in our family, we value play.

We make up songs on our walks. We use our imagination in our forts. We get to be silly at our kitchen dance parties.
It lets us feel safe and brings brings us closer.


Play is connection fuel.

 

Urban Tetris By Mariyan Atanasov

 

Thanks For Playing

Some months I see this as a game.
What can I write this month to provoke a response?
What are the topics and ways of writing that I'm most proud of?
Game or not, I almost always try to have fun and enjoy the process.
I hope you enjoy the results.

Thank you for spending your time with me today.
And may the odds be ever in your favor,

Jake

Hey it’s me again.

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Jake Kahana