Yesterday I achieved a small victory in my ongoing war against time wasting: I deleted all of the games from my phone and iPad. Most notably, the evil Candy Crush.
I've never been much of a gamer, but since I've had my "i" devices I've gotten completely sucked into the mindless, never-ending sagas offered for free in the App Store. I was on level 421 of Candy Crush. Think of how many hours I must have spent staring at that screen, pointlessly moving colorful animated sweets around with the swipe of my finger, blocking out everything around me. Think of how many friends I must have badgered day after day, begging them to feed my addiction by sending me lives or helping me unlock the more levels.
(The one thing I can say for myself: at least I never spent actual money trying to beat the game, as many frustrated crushers have been tempted to do.)
What did I get out of it, you might ask? It was a controlled environment, an escape from "real" life, its uncertainties and responsibilities. But in that escape I undoubtedly missed out on moments of joy, genuine human interactions, and opportunities to explore the world around me.
But no more! I'm free of you, Candy Crush (and Solitaire, Fruit Ninja, and Bejeweled Blitz...)
Now I can spend my hours as an active participant in my own life, rather than a zombie trapped inside a virtual world, a touch screen with retina display. I'll go outside, I'll write, I'll read, I'll make art, I'll have actual conversations with my husband; If I crave candy, I'll go to the store and buy a pack of M&Ms.
And yes, I'll still waste time. But at least I'll be doing it in my own way, in the real world. That's a victory in my book.
I've never been much of a gamer, but since I've had my "i" devices I've gotten completely sucked into the mindless, never-ending sagas offered for free in the App Store. I was on level 421 of Candy Crush. Think of how many hours I must have spent staring at that screen, pointlessly moving colorful animated sweets around with the swipe of my finger, blocking out everything around me. Think of how many friends I must have badgered day after day, begging them to feed my addiction by sending me lives or helping me unlock the more levels.
(The one thing I can say for myself: at least I never spent actual money trying to beat the game, as many frustrated crushers have been tempted to do.)
What did I get out of it, you might ask? It was a controlled environment, an escape from "real" life, its uncertainties and responsibilities. But in that escape I undoubtedly missed out on moments of joy, genuine human interactions, and opportunities to explore the world around me.
But no more! I'm free of you, Candy Crush (and Solitaire, Fruit Ninja, and Bejeweled Blitz...)
Now I can spend my hours as an active participant in my own life, rather than a zombie trapped inside a virtual world, a touch screen with retina display. I'll go outside, I'll write, I'll read, I'll make art, I'll have actual conversations with my husband; If I crave candy, I'll go to the store and buy a pack of M&Ms.
And yes, I'll still waste time. But at least I'll be doing it in my own way, in the real world. That's a victory in my book.