“A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play” — James P. Carse
When flying by airplane, I always prefer a window seat. For me, there’s nothing like the view of a vast blue sky to keep me in a state of wonderment throughout the entire trip.
In these moments, I find myself particularly struck by the expansiveness of the sky and how it can accommodate a seemingly infinite number of airplanes on any given day. The concept of infinity, that there are seemingly no limits, no boundaries, no end to, in this case, our atmosphere, has always captured my imagination.
The other day, while pondering the particulars of this article, I had a brief conversation with the daughter of a friend who I often see at the local coffeehouse I frequent. Given that she is currently exploring PhD programs in mathematics at several major universities across the nation, I thought she might relate to me telling her about this article I’m writing on infinity.
Well, she lit up like a Christmas tree when I shared what I was up to with her. She then tried to explain this concept to her dad, sharing something to the effect of…
“…. In mathematics, “infinity” is a concept which describes something larger than the natural number. It generally refers to something without any limit, the conceptual expression of a numberless number”
As she got deeper and deeper into her explanation, her dad sat there, eyes glazed over in utter confusion. And honestly, I was lost too.
The concept of infinity is a very hard one to get our arms around. In fact, if you focus on it to intensely, you could literally blow a motor neuron in your brain.
I often think of Taoism which speaks to this mind bending notion of there being “no beginning or end” to our conscious experience.
In his Chapter 7 translation of the Tao Te Ching, author Stephen Mitchell writes:
“The Tao is infinite, eternal. Why is it eternal? It was never born; thus it can never die. Why is it infinite? It has no desires for itself; thus it is present for all beings. The Master stays behind; that is why she is ahead. She is detached from all things; that is why she is one with them. Because she has let go of herself, she is perfectly fulfilled.”
The book, though, that prompted me to go down this rabbit hole of infinity is Finite and Infinite Games: A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility by James P. Carse. In it he asserts that we are often guilty of settling for what he calls a “Finite Mindset.” He best describes this in the following excerpt from his book:
“What rules establish is a range of limitations on the players: each player must, for example, start behind the white line, or have all debts paid by the end of the month, charge patients no more than they can reasonably afford, or drive in the right lane. In the narrowest sense rules are not laws; they do not mandate specific behavior, but only restrain the freedom of the players, allowing considerable room for choice within those restraints.”
What he appears to be saying here is that our restrictions and rules, whether self-imposed or dictated by an outside third party, often prevent us from experiencing a more expansive view of life. In other words focusing on finite end-results places unnecessary limitations on the infinite possibilities that we can avail ourselves to in this world.
A great example of someone determined to live without these restraints is former NBA basketball superstar Michael Jordan. Unbeknownst to many, he had an clause in his contract called 'For the Love of the Game,’ which allowed him unrestricted freedom to play basketball anytime, anywhere, for any reason. This not only reflected Michael’s passion and obsession for any and all things basketball, but that his love of the game was far more meaningful than winning any one game or NBA championship.
As Carse notes in his book:
“….the only purpose of the game is to prevent it from coming to an end, to keep everyone in play
AND
“….Infinite players regard their wins and losses in whatever finite games they play as but moments in continuing play.”
I often marvel at my own finite thinking as it relates to my work as a writer. The predominant worldview has habituated me into constantly checking metrics, which in the grand scheme of things are just tiny morsels of evidence (i.e bank account balances, social media likes). Like a shot of adrenalin, while this may make me feel better about what I’m doing in the moment, it’s just a tiny breadcrumb relative to my infinite, long terms possibilities.
Problem is, this obsessive checking can lead me to fall into a trap of comparative duality where it appears that others are doing better than I am. By way of example, I read the other day about a writer who was able to accrue over 30,000 subscribers to his digital newsletter in a span of less than a year, making my three years of numbers look minuscule. With this, I was reminded of another piece of wisdom that Carse delivers from his book:
“While finite games are externally defined, infinite games are internally defined.”
Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to set intentions around our aspirations. In the vernacular of author David Schwartz in his book “The Magic of Thinking Big” life is about taking moonshots that we may not even achieve in this lifetime. For me, it’s about achieving a 1-million base of subscribers by 2030 AND visiting 2020 bookstores by 2030. But at the end of the day, I find myself more jazzed about the ecstasy of the journey to meeting and exceeding these arbitrary milestone.
Again a thought from Carse’s book can be helpful here
“The time of an infinite game is not world time, but time created within the play itself. Since each play of an infinite game eliminates boundaries, it opens to players a new horizon of time.”
Yep, time is an artificial, manmade construct that we have created to add structure and govern our lives. As Taoist masters often assert, we are uncomfortable with unstructured mystery and paradox. Yet, as long as we are attached to time driven outcomes, we can’t realize the infinite mystery of possibility.
The Tao, in other words, is infinite because it has no desire for itself.
The remedy according to Lao Tzu, widely considered to be the founder of the philosophical system of Taoism is to practice “not-knowing” in our daily lives. I can personally attest, though, to feeling ostracized by others when admitting that “I really don’t know what I think I know.”
In the end, living more infinitely involves allowing my days to unfold effortlessly and spontaneously. Ultimately, life begs the question: “why live small in a world filled with an infinite number of possibilities?”
