In class on Tuesday, we discussed Bogost’s chapter about “Relaxation”.  We even played that meditation game in class.  Can video games actually help someone physically relax?  I think that games can allow someone to relax who is feeling stressed out, similar to a stress ball to release frustration.  However, “Zen games” seem not to relax the body, but instead frustrate.  Holding your hands still, with your thumbs in the same place, and trying not to tilt your smartphone does not sound particularly relaxing to me.  Perhaps I’m just too active and need to keep moving and doing something while I play a game, or else I don’t feel like I actually am playing a game, but rather subjecting myself to something unpleasant.  It could just be me, but the game “Cloud” really did not seem fun at all.  It felt like I was literally outside watching clouds (in the boring sense, not the beauty sense).  When I first started up the game, I was confused as to what I should be doing, and it took me a good 10 minutes of flying around and doing nothing until I finally decided to see if I could choose a different level.

Personally, the only relaxation I feel in video games comes in the form of a game that I really cannot lose unless I do not try at all.  Unfortunately, most games made specifically to do this are incredibly boring, because there are no negative consequences for doing wrong things other than wasting time.  Games feel much less immersive if there is some sort of consequence for doing something wrong.  This is why dying in games is so effective; people who play games do not want to die.  If there is no goal to be achieved, in victory even, then there is nothing to the game at all.

I was thinking about the debate yesterday about using games as a form of relaxation and during class it seemed like a lot of people disagreed with Bogost that videogames can be relaxing.  An example of this was Bogost’s own game Guru Meditiation, originally designed to help people meditate.  Despite its goal, many people felt having to focus on being completely still and worrying about the Guru falling was more stressful than relaxing.

However, other students agreed that games can be used as mindless distractions.  These types of games are hard to categorize because they depend highly on how they are played.  Take Temple Run for example.  A person who is competitive and actively desires a high score will attempt to stay focused and attend to every turn and obstacle the game presents.  With ruined pathways and hurdles at every turn and a pack of demonic-looking guerrillas at the player’s back, this can be an attention-grabbing and even stressful experience.  However, if someone who is only looking to focus their attention on something other than the environment around them—a busy train, a long car ride, or even a long evening lecture—and not on the score, then the experience becomes much more simple.  The player tunes out the guerillas, reacts almost automatically to the obstacles, and feels only a slight inconvenience when his character plunges into the swampy water after a fatal mistake.  He may lose more, that doesn’t matter as long as he is distracted.  Psychologically, this involves the use of schemas and scripts, blueprints for automatic thinking that come from previous experience.  When our minds depend heavily on these mental shortcuts, very little conscious thought is involved.  A popular example of this is the idea that car accidents happen more often within close proximity of one’s house.  Because we become so used to driving the same roads day after day, we pay less attention to the things around us.  Most importantly, we are distracted from our environment.  However, distraction can also cause us to forget our troubles, separate ourselves from an awkward or stressful environment, and make time appear to move a little faster.  I argue that this phenomenon is ultimately a form of relaxation, albeit not in the sense of lounging by a pool in a ritzy resort in Cabo.