I played Sudoku last night or, I should say, Sudoku played me.
by Mamluke/flickr
I’d only attempted this mind-bending game once before, on an airplane. On that occasion, my frustration level grew so high that an air marshal would have surely intervened had I not quickly admitted defeat. Yesterday was different, however. Yesterday, my father stated that the Sudoku puzzle he was playing was impossible to solve… And I was compelled to pick up the gauntlet.
To put this remarkable behavior in context, I must reveal that my father is incredibly competitive and has mastered the manipulation of numbers and words. Scrabble is a blood sport to this man. So for him to say he can’t solve a puzzle is about as common an occurrence as me announcing I’ve just fit into a size 2 pair of jeans.
I couldn’t possibly ignore the situation, family holiday or not.
by amirjina/flickr
What if I could solve this game that had defeated him?
I’ve spent most of my life secretly wishing to do this – without cheating. To no avail. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to know, every time you play a game of Boggle or whatever with someone, that you will lose? Issues, I tell you, it creates ISSUES.
So I picked up the Sudoku puzzle that had brought my father to his knees.
I methodically examined each blank square and slowly eliminated numerical choices. I was entirely focused on the exercise. I took my time at each point through the grid. I wasn’t playing for an outcome, but rather the moment directly in front of me.
Then, something amazing happened. I filled in the first blank… the second blank…
This was as far as my father had gotten.
I pressed on.
Holy crap!
I figured out four more numbers – bam, bam, bam and BAM!
And here’s where things started to get interesting. Because suddenly, I could SMELL BLOOD. Here was my chance to do the impossible – to best my dad. I could SOLVE this thing.
by dracorubio/flickr
Everything changed.
I no longer approached each blank square in the moment. My objective was to win, win, WIN. Preferably before my father went to bed, which he hinted was imminent.
My instincts told me to slow down, maintain my methodical approach. I ignored them.
My ego started planning a victory dance. I suggested streamers and balloons.
You know where this is going, right?
RUIN.
Two eights in the same row. Only six empty boxes remaining. Hell.
Time stopped.
I took a deep breath. I looked at the whole board, for perhaps the first time since I’d gotten those initial six numbers in place. I discovered that two additional rows – rows I had assumed to be perfect – had the same number twice.
I HADN’T BEEN PAYING ATTENTION.
Somewhere, in the frenzy to win, I had lost my way. Somehow, in the cacophony of ego, pride and stubbornness, I had stopped listening to my intuition.
AND I LOST.
A simple game of Sudoku slapped me into shape. And I couldn’t be happier.
HUH?
I may not have solved the puzzle, you see, but I received two valuable reminders:
- Focus on the process, not the outcome.
- Intuition serves me better than ego.
A pretty great outcome, I think.
What lesson did you learn today?
Dian Reid
/ January 5, 2010Love.It. I play sudoku often and never seem to get any better at it. But I do notice that when I take my time, when I don’t get hasty in my decision making process, I actually do quite well. And this translates to the little thing we call life, too, eh? If I take my time and focus on the process rather than the outcome, I’m much more likely to enjoy both the process AND the outcome.
Thanks for this post =)
.-= Dian Reid´s last blog ..Tiny Bits Of Mindfulness =-.
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010Dian: Exactly.
san
/ January 5, 2010My Dad is hooked on Sudoku. Do you still have the game? Can you send it to me so I can send it to my Dad?
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010San: It was in last Sunday’s Denver Post. We burned it in an elaborate ceremony, but you might be able to find it online.
p.s. My dad’s wife solved it without breaking a sweat. Interpret that as you wish.
SassyGirl
/ January 5, 2010I own Sudoku. My parents can’t touch me. But honestly, it happens to the best of us. When you lose concentration and somehow, a number appears twice in the same row. Sometimes I attempt to sniff out the problem, but more often than not, it’s game over at that point. Love your conviction though!
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010SassyGirl: Yep, I tried to backtrack but that quickly devolved into a much worse clusterfrak. Not pretty. I may attempt it again this weekend, though, with a new game. Stay tuned!
whollyjeanne
/ January 5, 2010if this’d've been a bolt-action-red-rider-with-the-compass-in-the-stock bb gun, you’d've shot your eye out.
.-= whollyjeanne´s last blog ..burn =-.
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010Jeanne: lol. I’m not sure I could pull off the eye-patch look.
fidget
/ January 6, 2010scrabble totally is a blood sport
.-= fidget´s last blog ..Bliss =-.
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010Fidget: It should probably be banned for violence.
TheWordWire
/ January 6, 2010Oh how I love this post!! First of all, this tale is so familiar. My dad can do the NY Times crossword puzzle in his head and then grab a pen and fill in the squares. It’s impossible to compete with that kind of lovable know-it-all! Secondly, the moral of this story hit the nail on the head. I’ll remember your lessons the next time ego takes over my head.
.-= TheWordWire´s last blog ..Exciting Career Opportunity: Windexing the Glass Ceiling =-.
emmajames
/ January 6, 2010TWW: Oh, dear, so you understand my pain. Have courage regarding the whole ego thing – it’s a sneaky bastard.
bwlight
/ January 7, 2010Thank you for the golden reminders…on a perfect day for such a thing! So easy to get caught up in the outcome.
You’re a fun read.
~ Bonnie (found you via Jeanne)
(PS – love games…but not Sudoko
emmajames
/ January 8, 2010bwlight: Welcome to PN! Glad you’ve come and hope you stick around.
Jeanne ROCKS, by the way.