I learned a little lesson this week, after weeks (and weeks) of trying to do the same thing (wrong) over and over again, expecting it to work.
I play a Scrabble game online, obsessively. The way it works is there are a number of “rooms” that one can choose from. Once one has chosen a room and entered, she is presented with a list of people who are, at least in theory, eventually going to be “available.” There is a designation by each name, either “playing” or “available,” and one can challenge the available people to a game. There are other factors involved. A player can set a certain rating for his players (in other words, he won’t play anyone with a rating less than 2000; he will only play with a certain dictionary, etc.). But I won’t even get into that right now. Let’s assume that there are people who don’t have a lot of extreme rules set up and who actually want to play. Now, given that:
What I have found is that I get turned down about 90 percent of the time. It’s an endless charade of asking for a game, being refused, asking for another game, and so on until I finally get a game. And I actually did this for long time.
Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was through. I would simply put myself on the “available” list and see what happened. Bingo! It has been unreal; I get games constantly. I play myself silly. I am in high demand.
Sigh. I should have learned this in third grade. One must assume that she is worthy to be played with. She must gather her pail and shovel, kneel in the dirt, and not bother herself with looking around for playmates. The pail, the shovel, the sand, the sky—they are all hers. She is in the center. Look, she’s made a sandcastle … a sand village … a Frank Lloyd Wright imitation … she is the sand, the sculptor, the art. She’s the game.
So if you want to play Scrabble with me, you’ll have to find me. I’m in the great sandbox. I might be available.
