Videogames Weren’t the Problem

I web-swung and parkoured across the tops of skyscrapers in NYC as Spider-Man.

I shot arrows at attacking dragons as a Wood Elf in the land of Skyrim.

I dueled Mongolian warriors as a samurai in Japan.

Then, for a season, I put down the videogames.

Last fall, I committed to stop playing them until I’d finished the first draft of my first book, hopefully by my birthday this coming fall.

I’ve made some progress on that book, but it’s been slow because I’ve only been working on it here and there.

The other day, I found myself wishing I could break my pledge or do a whirlwind series of writing sessions to finish my book months before my deadline.

Because I miss playing videogames.

I’ve been playing videogames off and on since I was eight or nine years old. As a boy, I saved up my pocket money to buy a Nintendo Game Boy Color. I was kind of obsessed back then, as kids often are about their latest interests. I was so obsessed that my parents were afraid I wouldn’t remember the out-West trip we took as a family to places like the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam (I actually remember that trip surprisingly well for the fact that it was over two decades ago, and I barely remember playing my Game Boy during the drives between locations).

Videogames always attracted me because the experience felt like a mixture of TV and fiction books, and I got to make all the decisions for the player characters. They would provide me with hours upon hours of entertainment; it was like being able to personally enter a world I would otherwise only be able to read about or watch pass by on a screen.

As enjoyable as that experience is, I gave up videogames for this season of my life because it’s common for a gameplaying session to last multiple hours—hours in which I could be doing “more productive things.” As I’ve continued to grow as an adult, temporarily removing it and other forms of entertainment from my life has taught me to be more responsible with my time.

But I discovered something else: I’m still not making that much progress on my book, and that’s because videogames aren’t the only, or even the most significant, distraction in my life. TV, social media, and online shopping or “product researching” still pull at my attention.

This brought me to a further realization (or rather, re-realization) that such activities aren’t bad, but the amount of focus and time I dedicate to them can be. “Balance” is becoming an incredibly important word in my life. These activities, if stewarded well, can provide a respite from a busy life by simply allowing me to have fun doing something I enjoy.

It appears the American “grind” and “be available at all times” mindsets still have a grip on my soul.

Not healthy.

Videogames weren’t the problem. The problem is my attitude and so-so sense of self-control, kind of like I mentioned in last week’s blog.

That attitude problem also shows up in my book-writing time. Writing a book, while enjoyable in the moment, feels like work, work that I can’t guarantee will have a positive long-term effect on my life. That’s a hard pill to swallow, because I’ve wanted to be a published author since I was a kid, around the same time I bought my first Game Boy. Writing is deeply fulfilling to me, and yet I resist it because it’s more challenging—even if more rewarding—than other diversions.

Conflicting desires are hard to sort out. But hopefully, I’ll get to a point where I can enjoy the things I’ve committed to do while also remembering that sometimes, it’s ok to take a step back and play for a little while!