The Art of Remembering

Playing the Game

I have been returning often to the metaphor of “the game,” finding myself comforted by the understanding that the illusion of existence is merely a choice made by the collective consciousness to experience life in many forms. The purpose of the game, as I see it, is to create a space where consciousness can continuously shift, evolve, and work its way toward higher or more complete levels of existence, thereby elevating the consciousness of the whole in a piecemeal fashion, one human experience at a time.

Alan Watts describes this notion as a game of hide-and-seek that the universe plays with itself. While I appreciate the simplicity of his metaphor, I find it lacking in some ways, especially when considering how the game seems to evolve over time. I prefer to imagine it as something more dynamic, like an experiential, interactive game where the goal is not just to find yourself again, but to deepen and develop both the character you play and the world you inhabit.

Watts doesn’t necessarily speak to a reason behind this exercise, but I find myself theorizing that if there is a purpose, it’s not simply to play, but to excel, to develop the character of the soul, and through it, help cultivate the larger narrative of consciousness itself.

We begin the game at the outset of life, slowly growing and cultivating the species across time, until intelligent life arises. Checkpoint. From there, the next level becomes about cultivating the consciousness of intelligent life, encouraging it to grow smarter, more compassionate, and more sophisticated in its ways of being. Checkpoint. Once a certain level of sophistication is reached, the game inches toward its conclusion, and two outcomes present themselves: either we lose the game, and intelligent life ceases to exist as a direct product of a lack of humanity, compassion, and understanding; or enough souls awaken to the truth of the game, thereby lifting the collective consciousness of humanity to a level that mirrors the empathy, unity, and expansiveness of the Collective itself. Achievement.

Either way, whether we excel or lose—the game, in some form, resets. It always begins again.

Grounding Philosophy in Practice

Understanding this premise is not just philosophical, it’s also deeply practical. It offers a way to ground ourselves out of the physical trap of our bodies, to return our awareness back to nature, back to the original pulse of existence, and away from the artificial rules we feel bound to within this particular chapter of the game.

When I lay awake at night, overthinking about the state of my finances, it’s as though I’m losing points, stressing over monopoly money in a world made of make-believe rules. What an absolute waste of time?

In those moments, I try to approach the situation a few ways:

  • Laugh at how silly it is that my sense of survival and security feels tied to a fictional system we all agree to play along with
  • Dig deeper to consider why this particular challenge has appeared for me at this level. What skills am I supposed to develop here? What is this experience trying to teach me about perseverance, resourcefulness, or surrender?
  • Meditate to reconnect with what is truly real, reminding myself that this anxiety will ebb and flow according to the artificial rhythms of this chapter, but my true nature is timeless
  • Be grateful for the challenge itself, and the opportunity to feel, to experience, to learn. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

When I can approach life this way, it transforms. It becomes something I am grateful to experience, rather than a place where I feel trapped or burdened to endless anxieties. I have been given the rare gift of experiencing every possible human emotion: joy, grief, passion, fear, hope, heartbreak. What an incredible, sacred opportunity that is.

The Role of Suffering in Becoming

Suffering is the most powerful tool we possess within the game. It shapes the intricacies of our character, carving depth into each version of the self that the collective consciousness inhabits. In any form, suffering offers the opportunity for refinement, its presence signals a necessary transformation. It acts as a compass for the soul’s development, pointing us toward the lessons we must learn. Each time suffering arises, it is a message: an invitation to evolve, to deepen our compassion, and to gain greater awareness of the game’s purpose.

We are each born with particular weaknesses. These are gifts in disguise that illuminate where our growth is most needed. The gift lies in the ability to feel the vastness of sadness, anxiety, terror, and pain. To grow around it, through it, and beyond it. The beauty of the game is not that it is easy, but that it allows us to stretch the edges of consciousness through every feeling we endure. What an incredibly grounding perspective to try and hold at the forefront of our minds.

These weaknesses are not flaws to be eradicated, but ground to be traversed. When we resist them, when we fight instead of soften, the challenges become more entrenched and harder to overcome. It may take many iterations of the game to learn the art of shifting through pain, but once we do, we gain another tool in our arsenal to meet future suffering with equanimity.

Elevating the Collective

Every individual evolution uplifts the whole. As each of us learns to move through suffering with awareness, we elevate the collective.

I recognize that all of this sounds quite adjacent to a religious point of view. Watts states, “We do not need a new religion or a new bible. We need a new experience—a new feeling of what it is to be ‘I.’” This seems to be the recurring issue. Each time this realization begins to crop up in societies the notions become dogmatic, and the restrictions of a religion begin to warp the beauty of understanding. The genuine forms of love that propel us forward do not come from a sense of duty or indoctrinated guilt, but from knowledge.

I prefer the ability to actively reflect on my interaction with this timeline. Not because I fear punishment or judgment (which feels like an absolutely absurd notion), but because actively cultivating an understanding of what it is to be “I” while cognizant of, yet fully immersed in the game, seems like such a worthwhile way to experience time.

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