Get to know yourself, others with ‘Fun Game’
I play this little game with my wife every once in a while. It’s called Fun Game (a title that’s successful at conveying nothing), but its subtitle is always different.He: Let’s play a game called Fun Game, subtitled “What I’d Do If A Thousand Bucks Fell Out of the Sky.” You have to answer without thinking.She: OK. You go first.He: I would – um, see if I could get to Paris.She: I’d pay bills.He: Really? Bills?
She: Oh, I guess maybe we could spend part of it on some really good ice cream. But the cats need shots, too.For being nothing more than a device invented years ago to keep the driver awake on car trips, “Fun Game” has actually presented us with a lot of information over the years. It’s a stream-of-consciousness effort that’s excellent for revealing inner priorities and motives.A few years ago we were driving that interminable stretch between Dodge City and Wichita, the morning sun poking its fingers into our eyes. I was nursing a soda.”Let’s play a game called Fun Game,” I said, “subtitled ‘What I Like About X.'” (The secret to Fun Game is threefold: improvisation, adaptation and knowing when to quit, or if it’s even worth it to start. The whole thing rises or falls on the subtitle.)”OK,” she said. “What I like about Mary Earl is how grounded she is.”Mary was one of our teachers, a prayerful and calm person. Jacquie was right.
“My turn. What I like about (my old friend) Peter is that he has measured answers for everything.””Oooh!” she countered, as though remembering. “What I like about your mom is how she can throw stuff away.””And what I like about your mom is that she loves little white flowers.”Off to the races we went, weaving a tapestry of mutual thanksgiving over the next 20 minutes for the many traits about people we had never much bothered to articulate but had always appreciated.When the form of Fun Game had long ended, still the conversation continued and the tapestry grew: the patience of a certain friend, the honesty of a sibling, the boundless charity of a classmate, the loyalty of a coworker. It was a list that flowed together from the many forgotten corners of our lives, and soon it became a matter of what we could “borrow” from these people.”Sometimes I wish I could teach like Will,” I lamented.
“You’re not bad, you know,” she said. “You probably learned a lot from him.””You know, I guess I have.”That evening I dreamed that all of these wonderful attributes were flying around me, bearing the names of their benefactors on little sticky labels. As I caught hold of them, one by one, the labels fell away.I had what I had because of all the people around me, but now it was mine – mine to nurture and pass on, and to be joyful if someone else should want it down the line. Joyful, yes, and gracious for my own labels not sticking to people. I was what I was thanks to the generosity and hard work of others.So. Who made you what you are?The Rev. Torey Lightcap is Priest-In-Charge of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Glenwood Springs, (www.saint-barnabas.info). Rev. Lightcap and his wife Jacqueline moved to Glenwood with son Gabriel last summer after serving St. James the Apostle Episcopal Church in Conroe, Texas. They are expecting another child in August.
Support Local Journalism
Support Local Journalism
Readers around Glenwood Springs and Garfield County make the Post Independent’s work possible. Your financial contribution supports our efforts to deliver quality, locally relevant journalism.
Now more than ever, your support is critical to help us keep our community informed about the evolving coronavirus pandemic and the impact it is having locally. Every contribution, however large or small, will make a difference.
Each donation will be used exclusively for the development and creation of increased news coverage.
Start a dialogue, stay on topic and be civil.
If you don't follow the rules, your comment may be deleted.
User Legend: Moderator Trusted User
A report released this month by the Center for Colorado River Studies says that in order to sustainably manage the river in the face of climate change, officials need alternative management paradigms and a different way of thinking compared with the status quo. Estimates about how much water the Upper Colorado River Basin states will use in the future are a problem that needs rethinking, according to the white paper.