Crushed by Candy Crush
Recently I thought back to my days as a Candy Crush addict. For over a year, I played in much of my free time. I wasn’t just good, I was great. I grew-up playing puzzle games as a kid and with Candy Crush, I felt like a natural. Of course, lots of bucks that I could spend on extra lives, 99 cents at a time, helped as well. In time, I reached level 900+ and then, suddenly, I grew bored.
When I hit such a high level, it became obvious that my success or failure we predetermined by the starting board the computer delt me. If the board was favorable, I could play it out and had a chance to win. But many of the boards I was delt were impossible from the get go, no amount of skill was going to allow me to win. Early levels were easy, lots of moves/few pieces, and so when I won, I took it as an affirmation of me –my smarts, my abilities. But statistically, as more pieces entered the game, it was less and less likely I would be delt a hand that was even winnable. One day, seeing how the odds were stacked against me, I felt like the game didn’t affirm me anymore: I quit cold, feeling slightly cheated by an endeavor I had spent so much time and money on.
In fact, I felt manipulated, because if the computer’s deal was manipulating my success at the end, it was doing it at the beginning as well. Every step of the way in fact I saw I was being ‘tricked’ — I given easy wins, like hits of a drug, at the start to boost my ego, to make me feel the thrill of success. Over time, I was given the chance to build skill, so I could peg my sense of self, my awesomeness to my abilities to win. Now it wasn’t just luck, it was the work and ability I had –that were me/mine. Only when it became clear the computer was sometimes letting me win, and sometimes handing me failing boards from the start was I able to uncouple my sense of self from the game. Only then did I begin to think –hey, this isn’t about me, its about the hand. And, naturally, what isn’t about me, what isn’t proving I’m a winner any more isn’t fun at all.
I realized in many ways, candy crush is a lot like karma: I build my sense of identity from my successes and failures, but the board was set up by past actions and beliefs, by past alanas that I don’t even really consider alana anymore. Still, I take the wins as affirmations of WHO I AM, and I ignore the loses, pretending that if I just build more skills, the game of life is beatable, never considering the world is rigged against my most basic goal — becoming, controlling, avoiding loss and impermanence and suffering –from the start.
Moreover, I feel cheated, tricked by the Candy Crush makers, who ‘lured’ me in with all the early ego stroking. But isn’t it really me who tricked myself? Me who said there is some value to being a ‘winner’ at this game. Me who let myself feel special that I was able to win? Me who built an identity off of a skill, when a skill is just the sum of the experiences, the practice, the values, the opportunities, that shape it? Me who is so easily dupped because I want to be? Because I want to believe there is something that makes me special and good, even if it is just a stupid game
Me who uses the same methods to fool myself all the time –gathering the easy wins, giving them meaning, and then using them as ‘evidence’ of my awesomeness, while ignoring all the data points to the contrary. Pretending winning a few rounds can make me a ‘winner’ when there is no possible way to win every round.
And so, as quickly as I became enamored with Candy Crush, I became disillusioned. A small joy in my life lost. Me wondering at how foolish I had been to allow all those new and exciting candy shapes and colors to amuse me for so long.
