There’s a clear difference between a game and a competition. A game is meant for fun, amusement and enjoyment, while a competition is about striving to win. But sometimes, without even realizing it, we turn games into competitions. I discovered this the hard way during a peculiar game called Walking the Maze.
At first glance, it felt like the start of a city marathon, where people from different walks of life gather, eager to test their strength, resilience and determination. There we were, all gathered at the entrance of the maze, anxiously anticipating the start of our game. We didn’t interact very much as we were practically strangers. Rather, we stood in quiet clusters, waiting for the umpire’s instruction. Unlike in a marathon, our game had one strict rule: no one could drop out of this maze, everyone must complete the game.
At that time, I hadn’t heard of the infamous labyrinth in the garden of Villa Pisani in Venice, Italy, known as one of the most difficult mazes in the world. Napoleon once got lost in it and refused to re-enter. Hitler and Mussolini wouldn’t even attempt it. Its twists and turns are so complex that many fear stepping foot inside. If I had known that, I might have approached my game with more caution. Rather, I thought to myself, “This shouldn’t be hard. Surely, it should be easier than running for several miles through a city.”
Little did I know, I was in for a humbling experience.
The umpire stood somewhere at the back of the crowd, I didn’t get to see much of him but I heard his voice clearly above the quiet murmuring in the crowd. He instructed us to go through the maze and find the only exit out of it, then he signalled the beginning by saying “start.”
We all moved into the entrance which was wide enough for everyone, but as soon as we went past it, the maze split into multiple entrances, so many that no two people went into the same entrance. I strolled in like the others but as soon as I got on my personal path, I broke into a run. I wanted to be the first to emerge and to win what was never meant to be a competition.
It was a difficult and rather draining journey. Nothing prepared me for the complexity of the routes. Almost everywhere I turned was a roadblock. For every successful turn, I met several roadblocks. Overall, it was a gruelling experience. This maze was definitely more complicated than the maze at the Villa Pisani. I felt drained, lost, totally exhausted running through the maze. Eventually, I stopped running and started trudging through the maze. I could hardly move, it didn’t matter if I came last anymore, I was at breaking point and just wanted to exit the maze.
And just as I was about to give up, I emerged from the maze. A sign of relief flowed through me, “out at last,” I thought. But my relief was short lived. I noticed an eerie silence at this spot. Contrary to what I had expected, there was no one else here apart from the umpire. This time, he was seated calmly at the table, relaxed, and obviously enough by himself. Then he said to me, “You’re back at the starting point. You need to get back in the maze and start all over.”
“How is that even possible?” I muttered out of frustration. I was hit by both disbelief and disappointment and requested to drop out of the game.
But the umpire made me realise there was no other way out except through the maze. In his words, he described the starting point as a dead end. Then I gazed around. For the first time, I had the opportunity to see the space clearly without the crowd. Indeed, it was a dead end. In was walled and roofed without windows or doors. It was completely enclosed. There was no outlet there, except the entrance of the maze. The only way out was through the maze.
Yet, like Napoleon at the maze of Villa Pisani, I was determined not to re-enter the maze. I had gotten lost once, I had no energy for a second attempt. The umpire sat staring at me while I stubbornly held my stance. But, after a while, wisdom prevailed. I realised I had no other option but to start afresh. I came to terms with my reality, mustered up the little energy left in me and headed back into the maze. From the corner of my eye, I could see the umpire’s gentle nod of encouragement as I walked back into the maze.
This time, there was no running. I had no energy left for that. And the time was no longer of essence as I felt terribly late already. So, I glided through the maze, savouring and enjoying the path. Amazingly, every turn I made was in the right direction. Every path was open. I didn’t hit a single roadblock as I walked smoothly through the maze and emerged in no time at the exit point.
Instantly, I knew I was in the right place because beyond the exit were throngs of people, all standing as we did at the starting point, waiting to applaud others as they emerged. They all clapped for me. It looked to me like that rousing welcome that is given to the last person to cross the finish line in a city marathon. It was the clap of “You made it. Well done!”
Of course, I assumed I was the last to finish, but to my surprise, someone else gracefully emerged after me. This time, I joined in the clapping as this person walked into the waiting crowd. Then I got thinking, I’m not the last after all. I felt a mixture of shock and relief knowing I wasn’t alone in my journey of detours and delays. I could imagine what that person had gone through in the maze and while in my present thought, another person emerged from the maze. And we all cheered as usual. It was at this point I realised no one was giving us positions and I exclaimed, “It’s not a competition after all!”
Then I woke up! It had all been a dream: one with a strong message.
Life is not a competition.
In both of my journeys through that intricate maze, I didn’t meet anyone else in my path. This is to say that our journeys are as individualised as our finger prints or iris pattern. Even identical twins have different paths in life.
The starting point is a dead end. There is no exit there. Once you embark on life’s journey, you must complete it. The only exit is at the end of the journey. The length and complexity of that journey is now a matter of grace.
Some paths are filled with roadblocks, others are very smooth. Sometimes, it makes life seem unfair. But that’s not true, because in the end, we’re all arriving at the same destination where speed and smoothness is of no essence.
There is no prize for arriving early or penalty for arriving late. Everyone is waiting to cheer you. The first person to arrive will still wait for the last to emerge. So, why not slow down, stop running through life. Rather, learn to enjoy the path instead of rushing past it.
And sometimes, life pushes us back to the starting point. For me, it happened once. For others, it might have happened three or ten times. Let’s see each setback as an opportunity for a new beginning. Yes, it may feel like wasted time and energy. It’s not, for there is revival, renewal and restoration in the end. I arrived whole, I wasn’t tired, I had regained my strength before I emerged.
Finally, life is not a race. A race is a competition to see who is the fastest. Life is not a competition either, because there is no winner and no loser. Rather, life is like a game that should be enjoyed. We only need to complete it to get the crown: that round of applause at the end.
My advice is: slow down, don’t run through life. No one is chasing you. Everyone is doing their own thing. I woke up asking myself, “Why was I running?” Surely, the umpire didn’t instruct us to run. I remember clearly his instruction. All he said was “start”.
But then, I remembered why I started running the moment I was alone: I wanted to win a game that had no winners, I wanted to be the first to arrive in a race that exists only in my mind. I ended up exhausted, drained, tired, even discouraged to the point of almost giving up.
They say, “haste brings waste.” When we slow down, we make less mistakes. Maybe if I had obeyed and walked rather than run, my first attempt might have been easier. Maybe I would have had less detours. And maybe not.
However, my second attempt was beautiful. I understood the rule of engagement and I walked in total obedience. This time, I didn’t run. I walked. And in that walk, I was revived and restored.
So, if you’re on your fifth or even tenth attempt at anything in life, the key point is: be obedient, stop running, walk gracefully and don’t give up. You’re not late. You will arrive just in time. Complete your game. Everyone is waiting to cheer you. There is no prize for speed and strength because life isn’t a competition after all.
Read https://fullnineyards.com/youre-not-behind-just-waiting-natures-clue-on-personal-growth-and-development/ and learn to embrace your personal growth and development.