My dad and I played a few games of mancala this morning. (We have the regular kind, but finding this picture makes me really want to try playing with more people).
Bear with me here, especially since I haven’t yet cracked or completely explored the analogies and probably never will, but I’ve often thought about, if life really was a board game, the appearance of the pieces, or the board. In what type of game would I live.
Don’t say LIFE.
I’m not pink and rectangular and armless, but am I a chess piece, with a built in hierarchy, where only a lucky few of the lowest rarely have the slightest opportunity of jumping up to the highest position, or do I find my place on a checkers board, where everyone has a chance to advance. What about a ‘go’ piece, something so small that if one gets lost it would be impossible to tell because who actually counts those little white and black rocks. If enough vanish it might make a dent though. Maybe mancala or backgammon, where there’s a lot of pieces, and each one does basically the same thing, but has its place, its job and the game cant start without it.
Then, of course, the game’s not over until it’s over, so perhaps I belong on a SORRY board, where pieces move but are not removed. Wait for permission to leave Home and sometimes get sent back if something goes wrong.
Perhaps I’m a letter in SCRABBLE. We play until every letter is picked, and used, and needed.
What do you think? In any manner, it’s a fun bunny trail to let the mind wander onto while waiting for your partner to make his next move.