Playable Characters: Seeing Each Other's Journeys
When I was a kid back in the 80s and 90s, there wasn’t really a concept of “limited screen time.” The limit on the screen time was a) if you were home and b) if the noise wasn’t annoying your parents. My parents were pretty un-annoyable so we played a lot of video games. One of my favorites was a series of early role-playing games called Dragon Warrior. I really got into Dragon Warrior IV, probably because by that point, you could make the main hero a girl and the gameplay was no longer sputteringly slow. The graphics were, by today’s standards, terrible but the story was perfect for an elementary school mind. My favorite part of the game was that you played five different chapters. In each of the first four chapters, you were a different band of fighters. In the last chapter, all four groups come together with the help of the main hero. I loved having played the backstory before getting to the true hero’s journey.
There’s a phrase that I often see written in memes and blog posts: “Be the protagonist of your own life.” I like it. I like the idea that we make sure that we’re living our own story, not giving up on our dreams to support those of others, and certainly not fading into the background and just living the motions. There’s just one downside. As in Dragon Warrior IV, all of the characters were the playable hero at one time or another. Sometimes we forget that other people get to be the lead players in their own game. And how does that work? If we’re heroes, how can we support them in their story?
Often, I confess, I don’t even see the stories of those around me. In my worst moments, people exist like the villagers in that video game, there to give me a hint or insight or maybe to sell me something that I desperately need for this quest, my life. I don’t think it’s especially selfish, since I can only see the line of growth in my life as I achieve each new personal success.
Other people’s journeys are often hidden. Not only do I not know all of what they are going through, I don’t know what’s holding them back and what internal struggles they are overcoming. Even if I worked to see them as their own protagonists, I wouldn’t know the demons they were fighting, just as they wouldn’t see mine.
And that’s ok. I don’t need to know the inner life of every person to treat them with kindness, dignity and respect. But knowing more of the story really helps to build connections. Vulnerability, however brief and fleeting, shows me that they, too, are fighting battles and that we can maybe band together to beat the big baddies we’re going to face.
Alright, I’m not 12 anymore and I know, there’s no monster impostor standing in for the king. It’s just fear, and pain, and loneliness, and self-doubt we’re fighting against. But if we’re going to make any headway in a disconnected world, we’ve got to have the vulnerability to share our struggles with each other and the generosity to invite others to share theirs. It’s the only way we’re going to make it.
How can you share your struggles with others? How can you honor others who share their journeys with you?
