When I see life as a game, I can account for the futility imposed on me by the vastness of time and space, and I can adjust my tempo in a fulfilling manner across all ranges of activity and intensity.
When I see life as an idealized quest, I become stuck in a quagmire of melodramatic thoughts, and I have to constantly ignore the evidence around me—those ever-present indications that consistently tell me I’m not that important, and to make the most of the time I have left.
(It’s better as a game.)


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