Mom doesn’t want to win

While playing a board game with my kids, my daughter was speaking fast and emphatically to her brother. One of the things that tumbled out of her mouth was “mom doesn’t want to win.” Those words caught my attention, breaking whatever daydream I occupied.

She was right, of course. I thought about my dispassion towards winning the game, knowing it was just a fleeting pastime, a series of moments to be experienced. I didn’t identify with my performance, skill, or whether I’d win or lose. All I cared about was everyone else’s enjoyment – not only gladly coming in last place, but sometimes, sabotaging myself to keep them ahead.

I thought about some of the other players in my game of life, and how much I wanted to adopt this attitude towards everyone. How liberating it would be, I thought, to stay in this sentiment of loving all the players more than my sense of self and experiencing life for what it really is: a series of moments in some eternal game, with each chapter ending all too quickly.

And to me, that’s one of the differences between someone who is sleeping and someone who has woken up. You start to detach from being competitive with yourself and others, and the impermanence of life, just like a game, is something experienced viscerally in each moment.

I can remember one of my more exhausting struggles to be right. It shouldn’t have mattered, I should have been able to just walk away from it, yet every time this “thing” was brought up, an argument would ensue. The only reason I cared was because when it came to this issue, not being right implied there was something wrong with me. Couldn’t have that!

Sometimes in an argument, we forget that the other person is fighting for the same reason – to feel understood, to not feel inadequate, stupid, or like a failure. Basically, if an argument has become personal, don’t expect anyone to back down.

At times, it’s tempting to retrace all the steps to understand how we landed in such messy misunderstandings with people. I’m sure it can be figured out to some degree, but so often we end up there through a series of reactions. And if that’s the case, it’s little different from rolling dice and hoping to land some place good.

So what allows us to play a game, and focus more on the experience instead of the outcome? Well, we know it doesn’t matter in the end. We’ve learned to enjoy games for the experiences they give us, well aware that it will end without consequence to who we *really* are. I wish we could all be born with our cosmic memories and perspective intact, but I guess all the joy, drama, pain, lessons, and fun hits different in a truly immersive experience. 🙃

But if you manage to adopt such an elevated, detached mindset towards life and all its…thrills and painful jokes, you’ll take yourself and everything else less seriously. The things that had a grip on you before will loosen and drop off, because you’re playing the game the way it’s meant to be played. Those who haven’t figured it out…you’ll start to view them like children, and when that happens, you can’t help but want to let others win.

Peace,