“life is scrabble”
There, I said it.
I’ve been playing Scrabble on my iPhone lately, well, a lot actually. Last night I realized this great truth. It all depends on the tiles you get. Last night, I kid you not, I had three I’s, two A’s, one U and an E. I knew I could trade in letters but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so. I liked the challenge of having to make words with no high scoring letters, at least I liked it for a little while then it just sucked rocks. Still, I could not allow myself to trade up. I supposed I’m just stubborn like that.
I did not overcome my circumstances, my pitiful Scrabble tile pull…I lost to the blasted computer by a wide margin. I had perseverance down perfectly but the tiles never got better. I just didn’t have anything with which to work.
Now conversely, the next game I played I raked in the good tiles. I found the best spaces and I maximized my words with the finesse of an artist. I rocked. Big. I broke 300 before I broke a sweat. My words were not extraordinary but the tiles and the placement just seemed to keep working out. Sometimes I think the game is rigged. I do.
This morning as I dropped off my son at preschool I was thinking about those tile draws. You know, life is not fair. It is not even. It does seem to play favorites. As I looked at some of the parents in Miles’ school who are recently laid off and read about the trials of people across the country who are suffering the most in the economy I’m reminded that I keep getting good tile pulls. I just do. Sure, I HAVE had moments when I am besieged by all vowels but frankly those times are transient…they are the exception rather than the rule. Even sitting holding a pretty good hand at the game right now I have to wonder if the game is rigged.
Once, when Riley and I played a game of actually, in real life Scrabble she was frustrated by her tiles. “All I need is a G and I’d have a great word.” I had a G and so I gave it to her and just asked that she toss a tile my way. She made an excellent word and probably she beat me but it seemed as though it turned the corner on her game. It gave her a leg up. I didn’t mind losing. I win a lot of games and none have been as satisfying as the one in which my 11 year old beat me because of a donated G.
Maybe this is where it makes all the difference…what we are willing to risk, what we are willing to part with, what we are willing to give up for someone else.