The Secret Practice of Solitaire

Okay, I’m about to cop to it. Listen up. I use Solitaire on my computer as a spiritual practice. Really. Think I’m going to get into a huge theological explanation? Think again. It’s real simple.

When I know I’m holding on, I use solitaire to let go. It works the same way driving works for me—as a Zen activity.

Solitaire requires that I pay attention in order to play, not to mention win. By entertaining my brain, I am able to loosen the stranglehold of whatever is holding on in my mind or whatever I am holding onto in my mind. It's the same thing!

Let’s get specific:

I was away at the beginning of August, visiting friends in Santa Fe. One of them had a new partner whom I was really looking forward to meeting. Let me simply say delicately that it did not go as well as I had hoped. In fact, it was a disaster, a bona fide disaster.

Weeks elapsed and I received an email apology which I didn’t answer. I had nothing to say. Two more weeks and it began to nag at me. I was not behaving to the standard that I choose for myself. I was in resistance to this email, and did not want to answer it. Argh. I wanted to be a better me.

So I played Solitaire until I got clear. I wanted to teach the little so-and-so a lesson. I was angry. The apology wasn’t sufficient. I told myself stories and played Solitaire till I was storied out, and then I was able to get real.

I wrote the offending partner back. I said I’d received the apology and that now damaged trust would have to be rebuilt through actions. Small, gentle actions. And I felt better, clearer, no longer in resistance, and right with myself again.

Solitaire. A game played alone, against (or for) oneself, and a wonderful spiritual discipline for getting clear.

Go ahead, boot up!