The Game

A few weeks ago I sunk myself into $50,000 of debt by buying a piece of property—a risky Investment but one I was sure would pay off with time. My Investment consumed my money and my mind so much that I hardly noticed the other Players who also sat around the tiny round table as we moved our plastic figures across colored cardboard. My eyes flicked frantically between the rolling dice in which my fate rested, the paper pile in which my Worth rested, the colored square in which my plastic me rested, and the three very green square inches of property in which my hope rested.

My whispery frustrated thoughts quickly grew louder as I began to realize that nobody else cared as much about the Game as I did. As they built their little relationships, I built my bank account. They talked about people who were not part of the Game, places which were not located on the Game board, and even plans that would not take place until after the Game was over. I had no interest in where they were going when we were finished playing. I just wanted them to take their turn so that it could be my turn.

When they stopped to eat, I was hungry only for more property and play money. I stroked the colorful papers in front of me, counting, recounting. Every additional slip defined me as a more successful and strategic Player of the Game. The others may have had more paper stacked in front of them at the moment but I knew my Investment had far more potential. With enough time, I would outplay every one of them. While they had fun, I had a future. Within ten minutes, I thought, I would be able to pay off my debt and begin to build true Worth.

But then the Game was over. Before I could protest, before I could even think about what the End of the Game meant, my little plastic me was snatched from the board and my Money was distributed back to the bank. I had counted and recounted throughout the Game but even if my life depended on it I could not seem to remember now how much I ended with. I tried to see how much the other Players had but they did not seem to care how we compared. They had mentally moved on to a World where this Money did not matter.

It was then, the moment the Game was over, that I realized it was me who had missed out. The other Players were still happy. I was devastated. My only desire had been to see my Investment bring me profit. If the Game had only lasted longer, I could have been happy too. Ten more minutes was all I needed! But there was no going back. The Game was boxed up, the lid had closed on plastic me, and even if I could have hung onto my cash, it would have been worthless in the World outside the Game. My Investment had given me Worth for twenty minutes or so but now I realized that years stretched out in front of me and I had nothing to show for my twenty minutes of Strategy. The other Players had Joy, strengthened friendships, no regrets. I had a failed Investment—boxed and buried without warning.

And what if life is just a Game? What if it is twenty minutes compared to eternity? What if Worth is about more than paper slips? What if Worth can last longer than the game lasts?

Image by @aedrian