While walking in a park one calm and cool autumn, from out of the enjoyment of a ten minute moment, with trees bathed in fall colours, with birds—black-eyed juncos, chickadees and sparrows—pecking among leaves and squirrels running around like maniacs, from out of the overcast white sky comes a question.
Is it serious?
“It depends,” you say. “What is “it”? Is a mouse serious? A mouse thinks so. That’s why he runs. Owls think mice are serious. Survival is serious to survivors. Owl and mouse do owl and mouse things to survive just as humans do human things to survive (except with TVs, toilets and machines). The difference is, whereas a mouse and owl won’t understand what “serious” is, a human might.
Think of it as a game. (Cue music: Stakka Bo, “Here We Go Again” (1993)).
In the first chapter of Finite and Infinite Games (1986), James P. Carse lays out a theory in two sentences, “There are at least two kinds of games. One could be called finite, the other infinite. A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.”
Mouse vs. owl is a finite game. A mouse named Jimmy can escape (win) or be eaten (lose). An owl named Janice can eat (win) or starve (lose). The dead are losers. Death is the triumph of past over future, but if life is the prize for winning, finite players aren’t living.
What is won in finite games is a title (p. 19). In death, titles replace life. When you die, attempts to win titles stop. We take finite games serious, but in seriousness and certainty we lose awareness of wonder and the infinite game we’re playing.
Beyond the immediate owl and mouse competition (little picture), there is an infinite game (big picture) where owl and mouse play “live and let die” so others can continue.
In an infinite game players play (and die) to keep the game going. Finite games have boundaries, infinite games do not. You can’t actually tell how long an infinite game has been playing.
Is the universe serious? Is air travel, brain surgery and regular maintenance serious? Something is serious or it isn’t unless, of course, what is serious actually isn’t.
Are birds in trees serious? Are fish in seas and people in parks, serious? Is a goose standing on one foot stretching his wings among other geese, serious? Is a woman standing on one foot stretching among other women stretching, serious? Is a man selling drugs to another man, serious? Is a cat pouncing on a sparrow, serious?
Life and death feel serious. Ask any cancer survivor, terrorist or soldier. People who kill themselves are probably over-serious. It isn’t a question of whether it “’tis,” as Hamlet soliloquized, “‘nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” because we know it “’tis!” Hard as it is to consider, suffering is part of the game so the trick is, let suffering be there without resisting. It ’tis what it ’tis! Do what you can and take what comes.
For millions of people, a lot of the time (most of the time?), life does not feel blissful, as in, perfectly happy, but then, as it is written by the Rolling Stones, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, but if you try sometimes, you’ll find, you get what’s agreed.
It’s like the joke Woody Allen told, the gist of which goes, “The food in this place is terrible!” “Yeah, I know; and such small portions.” To Woody, life is “full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly.”
Something “serious” is important, grave, sombre, heavy, weighty, critical, sincere, in earnest and not trifling (Dictionary.com). Is that how “it” is? Is life grave sombre, heavy, and weighty?
The Power Thesaurus lists 509 words that are the opposite of “serious,” including: funny, playful, light, unimportant, silly, trivial, lighthearted, ridiculous, happy, laughable, merry, easy, trippy, unwise and priceless.
How would it feel if instead of thinking it is serious!, you thought the opposite?
What if you could see finite games for what they are? How would you feel, “to be on your own, with no direction home, a complete unknown, just like a rolling stone?” (“Like a Rolling Stone”).
Truth is, a lot of what people think of as “terribly important and serious,” actually isn’t. On and off. On and off. Now you see it. Now you don’t. Here and gone, as if, what was there never was. That is the infinite game we play so others can continue.
A test for what you see as true is to look at your day without effort to change it. Let your day rock and roll as it will. It will anyway, so why fight it? Recognize what you can and can’t do. Alter what you think is true and with a rock and roll mindset, you are free to swagger because nothing can hurt you.
Don’t get what you want? Forget it. So what? Someone slights you? Big deal. People don’t know what they’re doing, if they did, they wouldn’t do it and there wouldn’t be problems. Instead of swimming upstream, enjoy flowing (see also The Art of Enjoying).
Live without worry and strain. Why not? The less you strain, the more free you are. There is only so much you can do. Beyond that, you’re helpless. Enjoy it. With this realization, comes the freedom to enjoy an infinite game. Look on the light side and give a whistle.
“Why so serious?” shouldn’t be just a catch phrase reserved for homicidal maniacs like the Joker.
As Joni Mitchell sang it starting in 1969, “Enjoy both sides now” because you can’t have one without the other.
References:
Carse, J. P. (1986). Finite and Infinite Games: A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility. THE FREE PRESS, A Division of Macmillan, Inc., New York. See pdf: https://wtf.tw/ref/carse.pdf.