It hasn’t always been this way. I go through phases and different periods with gaming and this current phase is one where I am not really interesting of a multiplayer partner. I don’t say much if anything and I don’t have those spontaneous bursts of excitement that lighten the mood.

I want to change that. It’s really getting to be a negative experience for the times I do want to play with others. I haven’t had much opportunity to play with others though the ways I’ve tried have probably been too timid. The few times I have been able to recently are really precious and I cling to those moments dearly. Here's to the future.

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Nuts and Bolts

I want to live stream my next Adventure so I've been preparing all the technical pieces for having virtual guests participate. Familiarizing myself with the various software packages again, creating ready-to-play characters of many different combinations, and practicing how to paint a picture using words and tools showed me how much of D&D isn't about the tools. Automating mechanics, understanding rules, manipulating virtual objects, setting up technology – all these nuts and bolts are there just to support the true core of what makes D&D what it is. Bringing people together to share and explore pieces of themselves with other doing the same is where the magic truly happens. Magical spells may be cast by imagined characters, but the enduring effects of spending those moments together in a shared space far outweigh any imagined incantations.

Bridging Time and Looking Forward

I believe that all Dungeon Masters give a piece of themselves each time they play. That means that every experience I draw upon from past adventures is me reaching back in time to touch that part of me that I gave in those moments. As I look forward to new adventures again, building a bridge between those past moments and the future makes me feel like an architect whose finished building is something unknowable to even myself.

I am excited to see how it turns out.

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

I like to reflect and process much more these days as I have been working on making important life and behavioral changes. Doing the same for games was natural and a valuable way for me to take time to sit with my thoughts and emotions. Too often the noise of every day has drowned out my taking the time to evaluate and recognize games' importance and place they play for me. Taking that time recently proved very valuable and useful as I navigate each day.

Re-visiting the joy

As part of reflecting, I decided to pull out a board game that I haven't touched in a long while: Terraforming Mars. In the past, I enjoyed playing this single-player and wanted to pull my mind away from the video games that have been my primary gaming outlet as it was reminding me of Starfield more than I wanted.

It was awesome.

I forgot just how long it took to fully set up everything, but after the awkwardness of trying to randomize all the cards as well as remember how everything was supposed to fit back in the box after I had finished, being able to sit down and move pieces around, ponder cards, stand up and think, and ultimately win that first solo game after a long time was amazing. With no expectations of winning, let alone feeling comfortable remembering all the rules again, stepping away from the board after making the final action to win the game was a moment I realized I had missed for a long time.

Setting out to touch the parts of my life that had been pushed aside for so long and being rewarded by a simple, yet sentimental win was weighty in a way that I didn't expect. It was small, yes, but it had a weight to it. Sentimental, yet novel.

Serendipity of Joy

Nothing about playing after such a long time would suggest I would be ready to experience anything other than just moving my hands and arms in an effort to take my mind off the feeling of loss from moving on from Starfield. I typically would not win solo games in the past for Terraforming Mars, and the few times I did, I would usually only win by the slimmest of margins.

Walking away from the table with a comfortable win not only encouraged me, it startled me. Metallic cubes and cute progress markers had gently, yet firmly forced open my eyes to the bittersweet emotions of being immersed, engrossed in a tiny universe spread out on the table – a universe that was built for enjoyment and escape. Had I not won, the serendipity of joy would likely have passed me by on its journey without me seeing much more than a fleeting glimpse. Instead, it decided to knock gently on my melancholy evening to serve up wonderful memories and warm my thoughts.

Rediscovery

I don't know where exactly I will go from here. Being reacquainted with a taste of the joy and pleasure of board games again feels like finding an old scrapbook filled with years of memories only to find out that more blank pages have been prepared by a loving hand. Picking up other games I have not touched in so long also brings about new emotions. When I used to touch boxes holding games I haven't played or enjoyed in a long time, the feelings of guilt and resignation at not knowing when I would ever enjoy them again dominated and generally reinforced the feelings of loss. Now, I look over at the wall of boxes with enticing artwork fit for museums and feel warmth. Being able to create new moments with old friends again with the added benefit of wisdom and age is the best way I can describe it.

What started with hope and then loss over one game, Starfield, has brought me back to something that I could never anticipate. What initially felt like losing another game to the bitter pill of trying to be responsible for the things I have in my life at this stage, has turned into gratitude. At times like these, I can easily focus on what feels like loss. With a little help from an old friend, I ended up finding a little bit of what I had lost before.

Thank you, board games, for waiting patiently for me. Here's to more memories and joy for many more years to come.

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Playing online is fun. It's been my refuge for a long time and has been a place for me to escape from the stress of daily life. It also has taken a different tone for me in different stages of life. I feel that I am in the place now where playing online brings enjoyment not from playing the games with others, but because I am spending time with others. It's not the game any more.

As I sit and look at the collection of tabletop games on the shelf, I wonder when I will get to play any of them again. They hold memories, some of them. Others hold dreams of how much fun they might be. Still others sit waiting patiently for their day to be more than collecting dust.

Life is weird.

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

1. Interviews with people asking questions about games I don't know much about.
2. Short-form.
3. Maybe some dramatic readings.
4. Fiction
5. Poetry.

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social

Replies to @dannekrose@brioco.social