The Pawn is Mightier Than the Sword

I started playing on line chess in September, 2003. I have since played 8,300 games. While this might not have been the best possible use of my time, it certainly could have been worse. I used to criticize video game players as wasting a lot of time, but now, when I divide 5 years and 2 months by 8,300 I have to admit I’m a (chess) video addict. It would be encouraging if my score (rating) had improved substantially in that time, but it has not. I’m still at level 2, having had only brief leaps into levels 5 and 6. (1 being a beginner, 10 being a grandmaster). So how does chess lead to enlightenment then?

Well, it has been written that there are more possible combinations in chess than there are atoms in the (known) universe. I would have to check with my math major nephew on that calculation since I’m still working on 5 years/2 months into 8,300. So any game with that many variables could easily takes years to become adept at, therefore the self-discipline to stay with something so difficult is the first rewarding quality of the chess enlightenment model.

Secondly, humility, since I have had the opportunity to encounter players of all levels from all countries, the majority of which I would say take the game quite seriously, accounting for my dismal win/loss ratio.

Additionally, lessons in patience, concentration, creativity, mental clarity, and emotional detachment are all activated when that first pawn moves forward.

I must admit to not being detached from the idea of chess mystique, given its history far exceeding any video game. For instance the great  20th century painter Marcel Duchamp gave up painting (and a balanced life) for chess eventually, such was its siren song to his psyche. Others great at the game suffered similar fates. Is it possible that to too deeply probe the near infinite range of variables can blow mental circuits? Or, with the wisdom to just know when to stop playing; an illumination awaits?