Life as an infinite game

I once sat next to a man at an awards ceremony celebrating artists. To his excitement, his friend won the award for her category. As she walked up the steps of the stage to accept her award, the man turned to me and said, “The reason I'm crying is not because she won an award but because it means she can keep making her art. She can keep playing the game.”

Time in a bottle

Every year I try and reflect on how my thinking has changed in the past year.

Last year I gave a speech at my birthday focused on what I call “the good ol' days” and the importance of recognizing these moments while you're living them.

While I still think that's an important skill to master, I don't feel nearly the same frantic urge to bottle up the good moments. If I'm honest with myself, the reason I felt the need to recognize the good times is because I'm was afraid of time slipping away.

This year, in a fairly profound way, I feel substantially less afraid of time.

Infinite games

When you have a fear of time you start to view everything as a race. A race to see the world. A race to get promoted. A race to spend time with as many people as possible.

In other words, life becomes a series of games that you are racing to win.

As it turns out, if you take time out of the equation, the game changes pretty dramatically.

In 1986, philosopher James P. Carse published the book Finite and Infinite Games. In it Carse wrote “There are at least two kinds of games: finite and infinite. A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.”

I think his thesis hits harder when you think about it in terms of losing these games.

You lose a finite game if you're not the winner. You lose an infinite game if the game ends.

Life changes

What happens if you treat life as an infinite game?

Three seemingly unrelated events took place in my life this year that gave me a taste:

1. I asked the love of my life to marry me
2. I quit my job to pursue game development
3. I ate a weird mushroom that made the trees dance and made my brain think new thoughts

The throughline of these experiences is none of them were in pursuit of some endgame. In other words, I wasn't trying to win anything.

The point of getting married isn't to have a wedding. It's about committing to someone despite the unpredictability of life. I didn't quit my job to strike it rich with a viral hit. I did it to establish creativity as a core part of my life. As for the mushroom, all I'll say is that true presence does exist and it's achievable within us all.

Playing to keep playing

Western society has persuaded you that life is a finite game and you'll be damned if you're not the winner.

My advice to you is to find a game that you love and view your success as a function of how long you can keep playing it. And if you are lucky enough to find your infinite game, it's your job to help others find theirs.

Paint a portrait so that you can paint another one, and another one, and another one. Love someone so that they have love to give to someone else. Plant a tree so that someone long after you can sit in its shade. Play the game so that the game can keep being played.

I'll end with a quote from one of my favorite books I read this year, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin:

“What is a game? … It's tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It's the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.”

See you next year.