Losing to win

I’m grateful to the person who made this piece of artwork so that I didn’t have to. (Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20)

I’m grateful to the person who made this piece of artwork so that I didn’t have to. (Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20)

One of my students used to play a game with his classmates.

He was the only one playing it, but that didn't bother him. That helped him to win.

To win the game, you had to be first: first in line, first one on the train, first one off the train, first to have the answer.

The other students were focused on each other. They were too involved in flirting and joking around to notice who was first.

Presumably, this student wanted status and recognition. He found those things in a way that worked for him, as long as he stayed in his own little world, telling himself the story he wanted to hear.

A lot of us do this, I'm afraid. We decide on the rules of the game without even realizing that it isn't the game we want to play.Then, we tell us a story about how our worth as a person depends upon winning this arbitrary game that we made up.

Specifically, we might develop a belief that we have to do things ourselves—or even by ourselves—for them to count. We have a feeling that someone, somewhere, is keeping score on how well we are succeeding at the game of being entirely self-sufficient.

In order for us to break out of this limiting and lonely way of being, we have to deliberately play a new game with new rules.

Instead, we can make a game out of identifying every little thing that we could possibly get someone to help with, and then finding people to help us with those things.

I'm telling you, this game is so much more fun. It's full of excitement, lightness, and relief. We get to collaborate, build relationships, and be part of a team. We get to accomplish more than we ever thought possible and help others succeed with their goals as we move toward our own. This game, on its own, is a pretty good reason to be alive.

Playing this game is very simple. Every time you think of something that you have to do that you don't want to do, you write it down. Every time you think of something that needs to be fixed, you write it down. Every time you think of something that could be better in your life, you write it down.

Then, beginning with the belief that you can find someone to help you do the things you don't want to do or even do them for you, you start looking for that person.

As you hand off tasks and projects, large and small, to other people, you find yourself with more time and energy. With that time and energy, you can find new things to do that are uniquely suited to your skills and temperament.

This is a magical journey. This how you figure out who you really want to be in the world. This is how you begin to catch a glimpse of who you would be without all the paperwork and meetings and chores and email that you're currently buried under. This is nothing less than the path toward your true self.

True, it often costs money to get help for the things you don't want to do anymore. But it doesn't always. Sometimes, you ask someone to help you with a thing, and it turns out that it was a thing they were dying to do. They were just waiting to be asked. They are grateful to you for the opportunity to do the thing that you are dreading. These exchanges don't always have to involve money, especially if you also have something to offer that you would love to do for someone else.

Even when it costs money to get something off of your plate, it's worth it. That's what money is for.

You hate spreadsheets; there's someone who loves spreadsheets and can't wait to set them up and maintain them for you. You hate folding laundry; there's someone who is much faster and better at it and thrilled to get paid for doing it. You hate managing people; boy oh boy, there's someone who loves to do that, too. Why are you hoarding all the fun stuff? What are you getting out of that?

Transitioning away from the old game to the new one is challenging. Feelings of guilt and inadequacy come up. We feel like we have to justify ourselves. We feel like it would be easier to just do the work ourselves. These feelings are uncomfortable, but they don't constitute a good enough reason to give up. The upside—the potential payoff, including positive feelings—outweighs the downside.

When we have the courage to make the shift to the new way of playing, we will discover that there is a huge amount of not just time, but energy and vitality, freed up by our choice to allow someone else to be part of our life and contribute to it. It's even better when their life is enriched as well.

To win at the new game, we must lose at the old one. We have to give up on being the first, the only. But being first and only is isolating. It's more fun over here, where everyone is hanging out in enthusiastic conversation, forgetting to keep track of who did more than who, and who is winning the game.

The real game, where everyone wins, is for people to spend as much of their time as possible doing the things that benefit other humans that also happen to bring them great joy. What can you stop doing in order to get better at playing that game?


Bonus: “Just because I like to DIY doesn’t mean I have to do it ALL by myself.” This recent article from my friend Ariana Friedlander explores our stories about going it alone.