Almost everything, in life, is some sort of game or choreography.
Work, dating, socialising, travelling, investing, writing, buying coffee, driving, exercising, and basically any other activity you do every day, has a purpose. It has rules, it has winning and losing to some degree. It has success definitions.
All these things might be subtle, or ambiguous, but they’re there. You can say, “not me! I don’t care about promotions or making a lot of money at work.” Ok, fair enough. But maybe you care about stability, or being good at your trade, or having the satisfaction of having done something useful.
If you think hard and honestly enough, you can probably find some reason and some strategy to best fulfil that reason for most things you do (if you can think of an activity that is outside of this scope, I’d love if you could tell me!)
Mindfulness is stepping out of the games
This is the insight that finally made mindfulness click for me after years of trying and failing.
You can’t win, at meditation. There’s no being better or worse than anyone else. You sit for a minute or ten at the sidelines of life as it happens, and just not play.
This is fucking hard.
Your brain is so good and so used to playing games that it struggles not to. It wants to strategise the chessboard of your existence. Even when you sit down to meditate, it immediately starts playing the “am I doing this right?” game, or the “how long until I can stop?” game, or the “I bet I’m better at this than most people” game.
The techniques are just distractions
This is why mindfulness has so many techniques, and why they all kind of work, and also why none of them are “the right one.”
Focus on your breath. Repeat a mantra. Imagine light entering your forehead when you inhale. Count backwards from 100. Body scan. Loving-kindness meditation. Whatever.
They’re not the point. They’re just a distraction to give your game-playing brain something to do that’s not actually a game. Something to focus on so you don’t immediately start thinking about what’s the best chat line for that hot person you met is, or what’s for dinner, or whether you remembered to lock the door.
The way I like to do it is to imagine pushing thoughts as they come behind a glass panel. Watch the game of games unfold in a shop window, or on a screen. Observe them without playing them.
“Oh, there’s my brain thinking about the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting.” Push it behind the glass. “There’s anxiety about that email I need to send.” Behind the glass. “Now I’m judging myself for having so many thoughts.” Behind the glass too.
Common traps (that are also games)
When I started, I kept falling into traps that were themselves games:
The “getting better at meditation” game: Tracking how long I meditated, congratulating myself on consistency, feeling guilty when I missed days. This entirely defeats the purpose.
The “achieving enlightenment” game: Reading books about mindfulness philosophy, learning terminology, trying to have profound experiences. Again, not the point.
The “meditation makes me productive” game: Meditating to reduce stress so I can work better. This might be a side effect, but if it’s your goal, you’re still playing.
The hardest part is accepting that there’s no winning condition. No achievement to unlock. No level to reach. You’re not going to “get good” at this in the way you get good at other skills.
How this shows up in daily life
Once you understand mindfulness as “stepping out of games,” you can practice it anywhere, not just sitting on a cushion.
Stuck in traffic? Usually you’re playing the “get there faster” game, strategizing lane changes, getting frustrated at slow drivers. Instead, step out. You’re in traffic. That’s just what’s happening. Watch the game of impatience unfold behind glass.
Someone criticizes you at work? Your instinct is to play the “defend yourself” game or the “prove them wrong” game. Instead, notice that these games exist. Feel the urge to play them. Watch them without jumping in.
Having a hard conversation with your partner? Notice the “win the argument” game trying to start. The “be right” game. The “make them admit fault” game. You can choose not to play, and just be present with the discomfort instead.
This doesn’t mean being passive. It means responding consciously instead of reacting automatically. Sometimes you still need to change lanes. Sometimes you do need to address criticism. Sometimes you need to set boundaries. But you can do all of that without being consumed by the game.
Try this today
Next time you notice yourself stressed, anxious, or frustrated, pause. Ask yourself: “What game am I playing right now?” Name it. Then imagine pushing it behind that glass panel.
You might only manage it for three seconds before getting pulled back in. That’s fine. Those three seconds of stepping out? That’s the practice.
Just be with yourself
You don’t need to be good at mindfulness. In fact, if you think that way, you’re not doing it. There’s no scorecard. No progress bar. No achievements.
Some days you’ll sit down and your mind will be relatively quiet. Some days it’ll be chaos. Both are fine. Both are just what’s happening.
The practice is simply this: Notice you’re playing a game. Step out. Watch it happen. Return to just being.
Sometimes, that’s all you got.
Sometimes, that’s all you need.