Life is like a game OR life is a game?

We spend our childhood years building a mythology of what the "real world" is. In the real world, they tell us, deadlines are always met, dignity and respect is a code and responsibility is both thrilling and daunting.

Well, maybe the last one is a bit more on the money. After all, we make believe house, doctor, business and other "big people" responsibilities but can walk away when it's time for cookies and milk. Barbie doesn't pay bills, restart is a constant and a job is something you create as play. I remember being a spy, a vet and fashion designer within 24 hours.

I think the more I am in this "real world" the more I see that these mythologies are very ill founded. Deadlines are pushed onto others, dignity and respect are buzz words (with only a handful of people genuinely following the code) and responsibility is more daunting than thrilling (for the most part) as bills accumulate and time ticks much too quickly in the normative goal timeline.

Contradictions, pettiness, bullying and general animosity is more often the case than not. It seems the real world is a bigger sand box with much higher stakes. You have your bullies, your weird kids and the few cool cats you wouldn't mind sharing your juice box with.

If it's games we're taught to play in the cradle and then why are we dissuaded from pursuing them in preparation for the "real world"?

Think about it, our language is permeated by sport and game analogies and yet society denies this game playing. Why? perhaps because rules, team comradeship and referees are out of the picture (for the most part) as we enter this nebulous realm called the "real world." Each player is left to get to the finish line in whatever way he or she can. So fine, as they say, hate the game not the player.

Head and Heart to Paper

So I know I've been lacking disciplined in writing the blog. However, I have been thinking about multiple entries and ideas to explore. It's such a disconnect at times between my interior world and the dictates of the physical reality I inhabit on a daily basis.

Sneaking a moment to transfer thoughts to paper is proving a great challenge, but one I will not back down from. I remember meeting a Scottish Playwright at the University of Edinburgh who told us that you are a writer, even if you are only thinking about writing: you've fought half the battle. This philosophy leads me to believe that I have many halves which need to be integrated into a physical self. A paper and print self. And so, I cannot promise daily entries, but I will challenge myself to bi-weekly typing releases.

This week I was asked by a colleague how is it that my head does not explode? With all the random facts and knowledge I collect and with no outlet, she wondered this as I spoke 7 miles a minute. Perhaps the antidote to the sadness at a lack of creating and the pulsating pressure to share is to, very simply put, just write.