Friday, November 30, 2007

Playing the game

I'm counting down the remaining days before my boss retires. Fifteen. But that's the number we work together, not the calendar days. What difference does it make? He counts the calendar days and doesn't know how much I'm looking forward to his leaving.
I found that the only way to keep my cool working for him was to tell myself he's bugging me on purpose. I can resist that.
Isn't that strange?
This is an introspection trick, IMO. Not that it's any less valid for that, I'm just saying I know I'm playing a game in my head. As my dad used to say: "Why not? Isn't your head that's causing the problem in the first place?"
When I just thought he was irritating, I would spiral-up and get furious, stamp my feet, and generally steam my own brain. But once I decided it was on purpose, I heard the little voice tell me that I could frustrate him by not playing the game.

And that's what it's about: playing the game, but playing your own version of it.
It took me years to get around to finding it, but "Finite and Infinite Games" by James P. Carse helped me understand a lot of things.
The subtext was that to play any game, all parties must tacitly agree to play. And that brings me to an old line from my early metaphysics days:
Life is a game with one main rule - that you not acknowledge that it is a game. If you break that rule, you're not allowed to play anymore.

Here's to rule breaking!

Welcome, if you insist

Hello.
I can't imagine why people read these things, frankly. You don't know me and I don't know you. So isn't this all really an exercise in egotism? Don't we all pretend that someone out there gives a hoot what we have to say?
I've known people in the radio business. One told me that the only way to go on the air without choking is to pretend that there's really no one listening.
Right.
That's probably tough to do on the radio, but this is a web log, a blog. Odds are there really ISN'T anyone listening.
Last time I started one of these, I couldn't write anything. Not enough ego, I suppose. Why am I doing it again? A friend of mine has a blog that I read sometimes. Seems only fair that I post things once in a while, too.

Don't tell anyone.