In the wake of National Video Game Day…
As a mother of an adolescent boy, I must confess I distain video games and virtual realities more than I care for them. The addiction and the violence associated with them is something that deeply concerns me. And the empty void that kids find themselves in when they play is frustrating. However, I also appreciate the art that goes into their creation and the fantastical escape that it can offer (when played in moderation). And the world is certainly moving in that virtual direction, whether we like it or not. Graphics are better than we could have ever imagined. Complex gaming systems and VRs are now readily found in most homes in the U.S. Disney’s newest top rides/experiences around the globe are based on virtual reality over animation. And whilst I do like old fashioned, outdoor play and adventure, if I’m truly honest with myself, I too- the screen-limiting, no-fun Mom, sacrificed quite a few middle of the night hours, in the 90s, trying to beat those pesky levels in Super Mario and Zelda.
So it had me reflecting today…
And I began comparing and marrying components of the video games I once so enjoyed playing, with the harsh realities of the world as I now know it.
And I thought…“What if life was more like video games?”
Despite the very obvious perks of cool suits (or skins as they say in Fortnite), amazing fantasy lands and kick-ass, unearthly abilities… video games come with even more practical advantages over real life… like instructions and an on/off button.
Real life doesn’t come with a manual- our instructions are based solely on who happens to be around us or what info we have access to at the time. None of us get more than one life. And the reset button, despite every best effort we might make, never erases our memory when we just want to start over.
I think of it like this: Birth-toddlerhood is like our pre-game. It’s gazing at the new gift, still in its wrapper and clicking it into the console, before anyone even picks up a controller. It’s that hopeful time, before any real skill is required or sense of defeat is experienced. It’s a place where we can just be. No matter our background, genetic predisposition, or how we came to be, our very existence is widely accepted because we are small and cute and innocent. The world smiles on us and we are embraced with open arms by virtually everyone who passes us by. Babies, like puppies, are loved by all. (And of course, it’s the one phase of our life that we have no memory of… go figure!)
But it doesn’t take long before that cuteness, that baby pudge, wears off and our genetic and environmental influences begin to surface. And at just about that time, we are dropped into our own reality with a pack strapped to our back… to explore, to learn, to conquer, to liveā¦ and to be judged. The world who once ogled and coddled us, gives us a swift smack on the back, as our game called “Life” begins.
Once we try out our legs and get a good look around, the first things we look for are instruction and tools. Only in life, there are no instruction boxes that pop up. And it’s not grappling hooks and sling shots that we look for in our packs, but coping skills, emotion management, social awareness, a sense of safety and security, and life skills.
And unlike the predetermined game settings, real life isn’t fair. We don’t all start with the same weapon and powerpack. Some people, because of their background and circumstance, have a lot of tools and they carry a full pack with many options. And others, hold a pack that is nearly empty. From the very beginning of the game, these players, lacking the tips and skills that others were gifted with from the start, feel slower and less inept. Life for them, is harder from the beginning.
But regardless of these disparities, we do all start at the same stage in life. No one gets to skip ahead a level without completing the one before it. Nor does our beginning determine our end. Each person, regardless of their start, will encounter different experiences along their journey- there will be treasures and challenges along everyone’s way. Every level has characters who are willing to help, if you can find them… and every level has a different villain. We all start with an empty score and a full life pack.
What is or isn’t in your pack, similarly, doesn’t seal your fate. Creativity and resourcefulness go a long way over gem stones and cross bows! And even those with no weapons at all, can run and hide in order to survive. But the point of the game isn’t to survive… it’s to win! And let’s be honest, it’s easier to fight a dragon with a sword then it is a toothpick. Those who started with a map, a compass, power bars and new boots are clearly at an advantage over those who have none.
When I look at the faces that walk through my hospitals doors and into the foster system, it is clear who had a full pack and who didn’t. Tackling your demons and conquering your fears, whilst certainly possible for us all, is much easier when you come into life carrying a tool box instead of an eviction notice. Winning at a game is easier to do when someone you know has already done it. Imagine trying to beat a game that no one else has played and no one wrote a manual for. Life is easier to win at when you have another winner to consult with.
I wish more people would realize that.
You know those opaque boxes that pop up above character’s heads in some games? Inside those boxes is typed basic information that the players would find useful as they navigate the game… a sort of character profile box.
What if, in real life, we had such an insight…
If above every person’s head, popped up a profile box with basic facts regarding our background/experiences, tools/weapons, energy levelā¦ alongside an image of ourselves- only instead of being pictured in our armor, we were pictured at our start.
How might that change the way we view other people’s worth and productivity?
If you knew someone came into the game with less, would you expect less? If you knew they lacked the tools to tackle their current predicament, might you stop to lend them one of yours? If you knew someone’s energy level was flashing red, would you go in for that last dig, or walk away and let them live? Would you feel as proud of the fortress you had built, knowing you started with an army and they with only a knife?
Would you use that information to eliminate disparity and to promote community? Or would you selfishly use it destroy faster and build bigger?
And what about that youthful image? The one without the armor… the happy, pudgy baby and the sweet, giggly toddler that the world stops to smile upon…
If when you passed by the damaged and aging bodies of our elderly, our homeless, our sick and addicted… you could see first-hand, that they were once young and healthy like you… If behind those sad eyes, you could see their once hopeful face as a child… Would you write them off so quickly? Would seeing them as someone’s “bundle of joy”, someone’s “congratulations,” someone’s baby… before trauma and illness and poor circumstance, before life, had a chance to create its influence, allow you to see them as a human instead of a burden?
How might knowing just a small piece of someone’s puzzle change the perceptions that we make at first glance? Would it create unwanted biases and nudge us to jump to preliminary conclusions? Or would it encourage us to see people from a different perspective and perhaps give them a little more grace?
Would knowing someone’s history, give us the courage to reach into our own tool box and find that patience, compassion, and understanding to meet them where they’re at?
Life isn’t a game. It’s a journey that has a start and a very clear end. It isn’t fair and it isn’t easy. But it also isn’t a void by which we lose our hours. It’s an investment wherein every step and every day matters.
And we don’t get fantastical lands or super-natural powers or convenient little info pop-ups. But we can pretend that we do. Just like we pretended as a child, that the backyard was a jungle or that we could fly…
So too we can pretend…
That everyone we meet is on their last energy bar. That maybe they came into the game empty-handed and that instead of a fight, they’re really just looking for a helping hand.
We can pretend that we’re not really looking to win by ourselves, but to win as a whole.
We can pretend that the thin and dirty face we see, was once a pudgy babe or a silly toddler who has now suffered insurmountable pain and is looking for respite.
We can pretend that a soul’s worth is not dependent on the body’s abilities.
We can pretend that our actions make a difference.
We can pretend that our lives belong not just to ourselves but are players in a much bigger scene and the talents we have are tools to make other lives better.
We can pretend that we are in fact super-hero’s in this life and we can be the treasured helpers hidden in various corners of the game, to offer other players a helping hand so that they might better succeed on their journey.Ā
We can pretend that this world is in fact fantastical in all it’s varied lands and that there are different lessons to be had in each, if we take the time to explore them.
We can pretend…
And sometimes… just sometimes… when we pretend… we are crazy enough to believe it.
If life were more like video games…Ā
