Let's play a little D-Fence...or not.

When I was overdue with Natalie, Parker's sister, Jaime, came to visit. Since there was no baby, and I wasn't in any condition to really do much, she introduced us to a game called Sequence, and I have been addicted ever since. We have been playing it quite a bit since I've been back home and I even played it today over at my grandparent's house. It's a board game that is played using face cards. The object is to get five spaces on the board in a row. (the rules aren't important right now) You can play on teams or individually, although I typically do better with a partner.
Adam has been really been cleaning my clock lately. Yesterday as I was thinking about one of my previous losses, I had an "Aha!" moment. I was thinking of how I could possibly love a game that I loose at least as often as I win. And then it occurred to me...
On some basic level I know it is a game of chance and probability. I am aware the cards I need may NOT be in the draw pile, my opponent may have them instead. I know also, that each of them is trying as hard to beat me as I am trying to win. But while I am playing, I get so caught up in the possibility of drawing the right card that these facts don't even cross my mind. Every time someone blocks my play, or plays a card I need, I am equally surprised and disappointed. Why would they want me to lose? How could they have drawn the very card I needed to win, and then, why would they knowingly use is against me? Were they really paying that much attention to my measly tokens on the board?
At that moment I resolved to change my approach to the game. I was going to play more strategically. I would anticipate as many acts of sabotage as possible and step up my defense. Adam is not just another player, he is the enemy, and he will not triumph!
But the more I thought about it, it just didn't make sense. The reason I enjoy the game so much is the joy I feel when I draw that one card, or finally complete my sequence. I love the anticipation, and I feel so lucky when it all comes together for me. I don't want to lose that part of it. It's just not worth it.
Then I realized that I have typically lived my life in much the same way.
I am aware of all of the horrible things that could happen to me, all the mean things a person could say, and that not every person has my best interest at heart. Trust me, I've had my fair share. And I've witnessed it happen to many people around me. (Don't get me wrong, I'm no saint. I've been on the other end a time or two before, but I really try not to be.) I hate the feeling of being so blind sighted by something that it leaves you feeling foolish, like somehow if I hadn't been wearing my rose colored glasses that day I could have seen it coming. The kind of pain that takes your breath away. I also hate that sinking feeling of learning someone has betrayed my confidence, or said something cutting, or untrue. (Probably why school wasn't my favorite thing.)
And every single time it happens I vow not to let that happen again. I know that I could live more on the side of defense. In fact, I probably should. But I don't want to, it's just not worth it. I think I would miss so much of the joy that happens in the middle.
I am crushed that my marriage is falling apart. I have that kind of pain that takes my breath away. If only I had taken those damn glasses off earlier! Maybe this wouldn't be happening? But looking back, a big part of me is glad I was so busy trying to find the joy in it, that I could not see this coming.
Okay, I've said more than I meant to... but I did want to have this written down somewhere so that I can look back and remember why I'm so lousy at Sequence and why that's okay with me.