GAMES
They are somehow connected to the practice of religion. You play, and make up rules, have an objective, designate winners and losers. My friend Halvah and I in third grade were given the honorary duty of watering the plants in the classroom, and we walked a specific path over the floor tiles to the water fountain, chanting. Certain colored tiles you could not step on. For each drop of water spilled, you had to push your thumb onto your temple and close your eyes and blow out a trumpet-like note. Halvah was a total weirdo, but confident in herself, whereas I lived in mortal fear that someone on the outside would gain access to my thoughts and discover just how very messed up my brain was.
Halvah though was very cool, and even though I went to her wedding, I never saw her in love. Things amused her, puzzles or crafts or newly published books, and she would fly over to something that caught her eye, like a crow, pick over it, and then discard it. Intelligent, but without passion. Through high-school she got called a dyke. Most of her friends were boys, though she showed no romantic interest in them. Her mother offered her birth-control pills (a liberal, forward-thinking woman) from the age of sixteen, but Halvah seemed not to be the slightest bit affected by hormones. I confessed to her, around 7th grade, that I would hug my pillow at night imagining what it would be like to have a man love me completely, and she didn't understand why because she had never felt that kind of longing. Games with longing become religion.
They are somehow connected to the practice of religion. You play, and make up rules, have an objective, designate winners and losers. My friend Halvah and I in third grade were given the honorary duty of watering the plants in the classroom, and we walked a specific path over the floor tiles to the water fountain, chanting. Certain colored tiles you could not step on. For each drop of water spilled, you had to push your thumb onto your temple and close your eyes and blow out a trumpet-like note. Halvah was a total weirdo, but confident in herself, whereas I lived in mortal fear that someone on the outside would gain access to my thoughts and discover just how very messed up my brain was.
Halvah though was very cool, and even though I went to her wedding, I never saw her in love. Things amused her, puzzles or crafts or newly published books, and she would fly over to something that caught her eye, like a crow, pick over it, and then discard it. Intelligent, but without passion. Through high-school she got called a dyke. Most of her friends were boys, though she showed no romantic interest in them. Her mother offered her birth-control pills (a liberal, forward-thinking woman) from the age of sixteen, but Halvah seemed not to be the slightest bit affected by hormones. I confessed to her, around 7th grade, that I would hug my pillow at night imagining what it would be like to have a man love me completely, and she didn't understand why because she had never felt that kind of longing. Games with longing become religion.
