“The opposite of play isn’t work. It’s depression.”
I talked in my last post about how your brain’s definition of happiness isn’t found in a complete shutoff of responsibility; it’s in the perfect blend of work and play.
When our work feels more like play and our play feels more like work, we’re at our happiest. This is what games do. Whether you’re an athlete, an RPG-faithful, or don’t want to think about the collective hours (days?) you’ve logged playing Candy Crush, you like games. And the reason you like games is because they tap into your innate need to challenge yourself and experience a moderate amount of victory.
“A game is an opportunity to focus our energy, with relentless optimism, at something we’re good at (or getting better at) and enjoy. In other words, gameplay is the direct emotional opposite of depression.” — Jane McGonigal, Reality is Broken
Constant victory is boring. The absence of victory is a constant state of anxiety. But engaging in any activity that taps into that sweet spot is euphoria.
The concept of gamification, or adding game-like elements into all areas of life, is not something we often think of. And if I brought it up to you in a coaching session, you might roll your eyes and think smugly about how you’re not a first grader and don’t need games to keep life interesting.
Um, yes you do. Incorporating the principles of gamification into your daily life, particularly when you’re trying to make a life change, is simply an acknowledgment of the wiring of the human brain and using it to your advantage.
“Games make us happy because they are hard work that we choose for ourselves, and it turns out that almost nothing makes us happier than good, hard work.”― Jane McGonigal, Reality Is Broken
I’ve been reflecting on this a lot during a recent budget review our family has been doing. Tightening up expenses sucks, because spending money releases dopamine. It’s not even the spending money. It’s putting things in the cart. Grabbing the illusion that you’re solving an important problem by making a purchase or scheduling a self-care service. Consuming things gives us the momentary semblance of control we’re all subconsciously looking for as we careen through the day.
Reading a book called The Art of Frugal Hedonism by Annie Raser-Rowland and Adam Grubb has been helping me tap into the pleasure and enjoyment of spending less. Instead of playing the subconscious game of control with my wallet, I’m playing the conscious game of gratitude, creativity, and good deals that turn out to be just as rewarding with none of the regret.
They’ve got all sorts of cool reflections — like that the conversation you have with a friend over your kitchen table is actually richer than the one you have at happy hour — that border on making you feel like a dumb kid about the way you’ve approached your life and spending.
So there you go. You were skeptical about gamifying your life because you’re “not a kid,” and then you find out how immature and underdeveloped your approach to your whole personal economy has been. (Or, at least, mine has.)
There’s so much more to this, but I’ll leave you here today.
If you have no idea where to begin with this practice and would like some support, you know where to find me to chat.