Look, here’s the the great hall I’ve been building.
Saturday night I visited the nether to gather glowstone for my new chandeliers. I sheered over a hundred blocks of sheep wool to build the white rug in the center there. I intended to stop playing at 11 but I didn’t.
I played Minecraft till 4 in the morning.
If you know me well, this isn’t a big surprise. For the last several months I’ve been playing Minecraft at least 10 hours a week.
When I finally got to bed Saturday night, I realized I would need to sleep through an event I had on my calendar for the next day. Write Fiction.
I forfeited my opportunity to rise early and get started.
Now, improper use doesn’t discount proper use. All I can tell you is I’ve been doing it wrong. What I’ve lost during these hours is greater than what I’ve gained.
When I play Minecraft: I’m given a canvas to create and a powerful dose of escapism that’s relaxing after a long day. When I play too much: my relationships with friends grow stale, I read less and I write less.
My creative goal is to finish the fiction story I started in college. The quicker I learn discipline, the faster I’ll finish my project. In my current station, discipline means more sleep and less Minecraft.
I would not be happy if a video game kept me from my creative goals, so I’m going to try something out. I’m now keeping track of how many hours I write a week. For each hour I sit down to write fiction, I’ll allow myself an hour in Minecraft the next week. We’ll see if that keeps things in check.
Creativity is a type of work. The more I invest, the more I reap. I know boundaries create freedom, but I’ve once again become lazy to this truth. This is my reminder to myself. No doubt I’ll need to hear it again.
It’s time to pull closer to the pain of leaving something behind. With luck the sacrifice will inch something distant just a bit closer.
I’ve been creating my world in the wrong place.