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Your Life Is Tetris1. Stop Playing It like Chess
人生如戏，如果把这个“戏”解读为“游戏”，你首先会想到哪种游戏？跳马困住对方的象，杀卒削弱对手的右翼，把对手逼进死角……这是象棋，黑子与白子对弈，非赢即输；重复下落的方块，毫无赢的可能，唯一变化的是方块出现和下落的速度……这是俄罗斯方块。这两种游戏到底哪种更像你的人生？
1. Tetris： 俄罗斯方块。
2. perseverance： 耐性；critical thinking： 批判性思考；crucial： 关键性的；tackle： 处理。
3. wire： v. 把……联入。
4. knight： （国际象棋中的）马；bishop： （国际象棋中的）象。
5. pawn： （国际象棋中的）兵，卒。
6. checkmate： 将死。
7. introduce： 引进。
8. versus： 与……相对。
9. 每一局比赛都是零和博弈——总分只有一分，要么打平，要么独吞。zero sum： 零和的，指一方得益与另一方受损相当。
10. 利益无法扩大。
11. utility： 效用。
12. flip phone： 翻盖手机。
13. snapchat： “阅后即焚”，由斯坦福大学两位学生开发的一款照片分享应用，用户将照片发送给好友后，这些照片会根据用户所预先设定的时间按时自动销毁。
14. boredom： 无聊。
15. addicted： 上瘾的。
16. incarnate： 化身的。
17. representation： 代表。
18. opponent： 对手。
19. mindset： 思维模式。
20. hold back： 阻止。
21. 这个游戏的思维模式是内在的意念集中——你在挑战自己，把一连串随机输入正确转变为有序的结构组成。internally： 内在地；manipulate： 操纵，控制；random： 随机的；configuration： 结构，布局。
22. assign： 分配，把……归咎于。
23. infinity： 无穷大。
24. stake： 赌注。
25. public rating： 公众评级。
26. run out of： 用完。
27. fatigue： 疲惫。
28. algorithm： 算法；optimal： 最佳的。
29. simultaneously： 同时地。
30. compromised： 妥协的。
31. prescription： 对策，解决方法。
32. constraint： 限制；dumb luck： 不费多少心思和力气得来的好运。
33. identical： 完全相同的。
34. fool into： 骗（某人）做……。
35. predetermined： 预先确定的。
36. hard-wired：（生理和心理特征）固有的，根深蒂固的；causality： 因果关系。
37. one in a billion： 极稀有的人或事。
38. predictable： 可预见的。
39. 我们的生命是个开放的系统，很多难以察觉的事物会改变我们的观点和看法。any number of： 许多；unobservable： 难以察觉的；outlook： 人生观； perspective： 观点。
40. calculable： 可计算的。
41. tip over：（使）倒翻； resignation： 投降，其动词原形为resign，意为“（象棋中的）投降”。
42. tournament： 锦标赛。
43. millennium： 一千年，复数为millennia。
44. void： 空白。
45. metric： 衡量标准。
46. uncompromising： 不妥协的。
47. set out to： 打算做。
48. persevere at： 锲而不舍（做某事）。
From the age of seven， I played chess constantly and competitively. I played in school， online， at national competitions. Chess taught me patience， perseverance， critical thinking—crucial skills for tackling life’s hard problems and difficult situations.2
Chess wired3 me to think causally at a young age. Move your knight here； you’ll trap his bishop.4 Capture that pawn5； you’ll weaken his right side. Every correct move led me closer to a checkmate6； every false step brought me closer to defeat.Chess also introduced7 the idea of the “other”. Black versus8 white. Our school versus theirs. And every game was zero sum—there was only ever one point to score， either to be shared or taken in its entirety.9 No way to grow the pie.10 I played chess seriously until the age of 15， around the time I got my first cell phone. The cell phone was a significant mark of freedom for a teenager， even though it lacked real utility11. I remember it well—a small flip phone12 with a color screen. I carried it everywhere with me as a symbol of my independence. My phone couldn’t access the internet or send a Snapchat13， but I found it could kill boredom14 with its one included game： Tetris. And I became addicted15.
Tetris， to some， is frustration incarnate16. It’s repetitive！ It’s impossible to win！ It’s driven by luck！ But to me， it became the truest representation17 of life there is. In comparison， chess is just a silly war game. I don’t play chess competitively anymore. But to this day， Tetris is the only game on my phone. It sits on the front page of my apps， a constant reminder that life is Tetris， not chess. I’ll make this distinction clear in four simple points. Maybe you’ve been playing the game wrong too.
1. In life， your only opponent18 is yourself.
I grew up looking for opponents—people to fight， people to blame， people to prove wrong. I imagined enemies when there were none because fighting was easy. I treated everything like it was zero-sum when there was so much else to gain. That’s the chess mindset19. And it holds you back20.
In Tetris， you’re only playing against time and the never-ending flow of pieces from top to bottom. The mindset is internally focused—you are challenging yourself to correctly manipulate a random stream of inputs into an orderly configuration.21 There’s no final boss. No blame to assign22.
The real game of life is completely internal. There really are no big， bad enemies who exist to make you suffer. There is no absolute right or wrong move that a certain opponent can punish. And your score can increase to infinity23， if you just push yourself harder. Your life score can increase slowly or quickly， depending on how hard you push yourself.
2. In life， things don’t get harder—they just get faster.
Some games get harder the longer you play， including chess. Positions get more complicated， opponents become more challenging， the stakes24 increase. You have a public rating25， and thus more to lose when you play the same opponents.
Not Tetris. The game remains the same from Piece One until you run out of26 space on the screen. The only thing that changes is the speed. If you played Tetris at the slowest possible speed for the rest of your life， you could possibly never lose. The only enemy would be fatigue27. But the algorithm for beating Tetris is not complicated， and you have plenty of time to move the pieces to their optimal locations.28 In Tetris， more often than not， we challenge ourselves. We are not content with simply making one row at a time. We push ourselves to get a Tetris—four rows simultaneously29. It’s the name of the game. Why bother playing if you don’t go for it？
The only way to master life—like Tetris—is to learn to play with the same self-control at the highest speeds.You can’t allow your goals to be compromised30， no matter the pace at which you move. You must control your own mind， your own behaviors， and your own time.
3. In life， you can’t control the board.
As I mentioned earlier， chess is causal. There is a “best move” for any given position. You can force your opponent into a corner. You can see 20 moves into the future， if you’re a supercomputer. Chess comes with a set of prescriptions31 and best practices. That’s because chess is a closed system. There’s no random constraints， no dumb luck.32 The pieces always move the same， and the starting position is always identical33.
Tetris？ You only know what the next piece is. You play for the present moment， trying to construct the best possible configuration of pieces， knowing that it is impossible to predict the situation even two pieces from now. You don’t get fooled into34 thinking you can control the future.
I spent much of my life in that chess mindset， trying to find the best possible play or force my way toward a predetermined35 conclusion. I was hard-wired to see causality all around me and to seek control.36 But real life isn’t causal. There is always a distribution of possible events. Things happen that are one in a billion37. There is no direct， predictable38 response to our actions. Our lives are open systems， where any number of unobservable events can change our outlooks and perspectives in moments.39 Even life’s biggest decisions are hardly calculable40—that’s why lots of marriages end in divorce.
4. In life， no one tells you when you’ve won.
In chess， you’ll get to see your opponent tip over his king in resignation.41 You’ll see the final tournament42 scores posted. You’ll feel the satisfaction of victory—unless， one day， you don’t. I remember the day I quit chess. I didn’t get beaten and give up in frustration. In fact， I won a tournament. And afterwards， I felt nothing.
According to the millennia43-old rules of chess， there’s only two ways to lose—get checkmated， or resign. The day I quit chess， I came up with another. If I wasn’t learning， if I wasn’t enjoying the struggles or victories， I had already lost. Meanwhile， Tetris began to fill my gaming void44. I play Tetris every day， and every day I pick up the game knowing that I will lose. How long will I play before I lose？ How fast will the pieces go？ How much will I score？ Those are the metrics45 the game tracks. But I added a way to win—if I play Tetris every day.
I enjoy being uncompromising46 in setting goals for myself. I get great satisfaction from knowing that I can regularly set myself a personal challenge and attack it daily. Whether I accomplish what I set out to47 achieve， only I know. Playing Tetris every day builds my determination， my focus， my will to persevere at48 things I know have no conclusion. And I don’t play to win—I play to play.
We should all be playing life to play. We shouldn’t only see our enemies or seek to control. We must understand that this is simply a matter of perspective. Chess can be a lonely game—but so can Tetris. Both require patience and determination. Both require an open mind. You and you alone get to choose how you play your life. Try to play the right game.
人生如戏，如果把这个“戏”解读为“游戏”，你首先会想到哪种游戏？跳马困住对方的象，杀卒削弱对手的右翼，把对手逼进死角……这是象棋，黑子与白子对弈，非赢即输；重复下落的方块，毫无赢的可能，唯一变化的是方块出现和下落的速度……这是俄罗斯方块。这两种游戏到底哪种更像你的人生？
1. Tetris： 俄罗斯方块。
2. perseverance： 耐性；critical thinking： 批判性思考；crucial： 关键性的；tackle： 处理。
3. wire： v. 把……联入。
4. knight： （国际象棋中的）马；bishop： （国际象棋中的）象。
5. pawn： （国际象棋中的）兵，卒。
6. checkmate： 将死。
7. introduce： 引进。
8. versus： 与……相对。
9. 每一局比赛都是零和博弈——总分只有一分，要么打平，要么独吞。zero sum： 零和的，指一方得益与另一方受损相当。
10. 利益无法扩大。
11. utility： 效用。
12. flip phone： 翻盖手机。
13. snapchat： “阅后即焚”，由斯坦福大学两位学生开发的一款照片分享应用，用户将照片发送给好友后，这些照片会根据用户所预先设定的时间按时自动销毁。
14. boredom： 无聊。
15. addicted： 上瘾的。
16. incarnate： 化身的。
17. representation： 代表。
18. opponent： 对手。
19. mindset： 思维模式。
20. hold back： 阻止。
21. 这个游戏的思维模式是内在的意念集中——你在挑战自己，把一连串随机输入正确转变为有序的结构组成。internally： 内在地；manipulate： 操纵，控制；random： 随机的；configuration： 结构，布局。
22. assign： 分配，把……归咎于。
23. infinity： 无穷大。
24. stake： 赌注。
25. public rating： 公众评级。
26. run out of： 用完。
27. fatigue： 疲惫。
28. algorithm： 算法；optimal： 最佳的。
29. simultaneously： 同时地。
30. compromised： 妥协的。
31. prescription： 对策，解决方法。
32. constraint： 限制；dumb luck： 不费多少心思和力气得来的好运。
33. identical： 完全相同的。
34. fool into： 骗（某人）做……。
35. predetermined： 预先确定的。
36. hard-wired：（生理和心理特征）固有的，根深蒂固的；causality： 因果关系。
37. one in a billion： 极稀有的人或事。
38. predictable： 可预见的。
39. 我们的生命是个开放的系统，很多难以察觉的事物会改变我们的观点和看法。any number of： 许多；unobservable： 难以察觉的；outlook： 人生观； perspective： 观点。
40. calculable： 可计算的。
41. tip over：（使）倒翻； resignation： 投降，其动词原形为resign，意为“（象棋中的）投降”。
42. tournament： 锦标赛。
43. millennium： 一千年，复数为millennia。
44. void： 空白。
45. metric： 衡量标准。
46. uncompromising： 不妥协的。
47. set out to： 打算做。
48. persevere at： 锲而不舍（做某事）。
From the age of seven， I played chess constantly and competitively. I played in school， online， at national competitions. Chess taught me patience， perseverance， critical thinking—crucial skills for tackling life’s hard problems and difficult situations.2
Chess wired3 me to think causally at a young age. Move your knight here； you’ll trap his bishop.4 Capture that pawn5； you’ll weaken his right side. Every correct move led me closer to a checkmate6； every false step brought me closer to defeat.Chess also introduced7 the idea of the “other”. Black versus8 white. Our school versus theirs. And every game was zero sum—there was only ever one point to score， either to be shared or taken in its entirety.9 No way to grow the pie.10 I played chess seriously until the age of 15， around the time I got my first cell phone. The cell phone was a significant mark of freedom for a teenager， even though it lacked real utility11. I remember it well—a small flip phone12 with a color screen. I carried it everywhere with me as a symbol of my independence. My phone couldn’t access the internet or send a Snapchat13， but I found it could kill boredom14 with its one included game： Tetris. And I became addicted15.
Tetris， to some， is frustration incarnate16. It’s repetitive！ It’s impossible to win！ It’s driven by luck！ But to me， it became the truest representation17 of life there is. In comparison， chess is just a silly war game. I don’t play chess competitively anymore. But to this day， Tetris is the only game on my phone. It sits on the front page of my apps， a constant reminder that life is Tetris， not chess. I’ll make this distinction clear in four simple points. Maybe you’ve been playing the game wrong too.
1. In life， your only opponent18 is yourself.
I grew up looking for opponents—people to fight， people to blame， people to prove wrong. I imagined enemies when there were none because fighting was easy. I treated everything like it was zero-sum when there was so much else to gain. That’s the chess mindset19. And it holds you back20.
In Tetris， you’re only playing against time and the never-ending flow of pieces from top to bottom. The mindset is internally focused—you are challenging yourself to correctly manipulate a random stream of inputs into an orderly configuration.21 There’s no final boss. No blame to assign22.
The real game of life is completely internal. There really are no big， bad enemies who exist to make you suffer. There is no absolute right or wrong move that a certain opponent can punish. And your score can increase to infinity23， if you just push yourself harder. Your life score can increase slowly or quickly， depending on how hard you push yourself.
2. In life， things don’t get harder—they just get faster.
Some games get harder the longer you play， including chess. Positions get more complicated， opponents become more challenging， the stakes24 increase. You have a public rating25， and thus more to lose when you play the same opponents.
Not Tetris. The game remains the same from Piece One until you run out of26 space on the screen. The only thing that changes is the speed. If you played Tetris at the slowest possible speed for the rest of your life， you could possibly never lose. The only enemy would be fatigue27. But the algorithm for beating Tetris is not complicated， and you have plenty of time to move the pieces to their optimal locations.28 In Tetris， more often than not， we challenge ourselves. We are not content with simply making one row at a time. We push ourselves to get a Tetris—four rows simultaneously29. It’s the name of the game. Why bother playing if you don’t go for it？
The only way to master life—like Tetris—is to learn to play with the same self-control at the highest speeds.You can’t allow your goals to be compromised30， no matter the pace at which you move. You must control your own mind， your own behaviors， and your own time.
3. In life， you can’t control the board.
As I mentioned earlier， chess is causal. There is a “best move” for any given position. You can force your opponent into a corner. You can see 20 moves into the future， if you’re a supercomputer. Chess comes with a set of prescriptions31 and best practices. That’s because chess is a closed system. There’s no random constraints， no dumb luck.32 The pieces always move the same， and the starting position is always identical33.
Tetris？ You only know what the next piece is. You play for the present moment， trying to construct the best possible configuration of pieces， knowing that it is impossible to predict the situation even two pieces from now. You don’t get fooled into34 thinking you can control the future.
I spent much of my life in that chess mindset， trying to find the best possible play or force my way toward a predetermined35 conclusion. I was hard-wired to see causality all around me and to seek control.36 But real life isn’t causal. There is always a distribution of possible events. Things happen that are one in a billion37. There is no direct， predictable38 response to our actions. Our lives are open systems， where any number of unobservable events can change our outlooks and perspectives in moments.39 Even life’s biggest decisions are hardly calculable40—that’s why lots of marriages end in divorce.
4. In life， no one tells you when you’ve won.
In chess， you’ll get to see your opponent tip over his king in resignation.41 You’ll see the final tournament42 scores posted. You’ll feel the satisfaction of victory—unless， one day， you don’t. I remember the day I quit chess. I didn’t get beaten and give up in frustration. In fact， I won a tournament. And afterwards， I felt nothing.
According to the millennia43-old rules of chess， there’s only two ways to lose—get checkmated， or resign. The day I quit chess， I came up with another. If I wasn’t learning， if I wasn’t enjoying the struggles or victories， I had already lost. Meanwhile， Tetris began to fill my gaming void44. I play Tetris every day， and every day I pick up the game knowing that I will lose. How long will I play before I lose？ How fast will the pieces go？ How much will I score？ Those are the metrics45 the game tracks. But I added a way to win—if I play Tetris every day.
I enjoy being uncompromising46 in setting goals for myself. I get great satisfaction from knowing that I can regularly set myself a personal challenge and attack it daily. Whether I accomplish what I set out to47 achieve， only I know. Playing Tetris every day builds my determination， my focus， my will to persevere at48 things I know have no conclusion. And I don’t play to win—I play to play.
We should all be playing life to play. We shouldn’t only see our enemies or seek to control. We must understand that this is simply a matter of perspective. Chess can be a lonely game—but so can Tetris. Both require patience and determination. Both require an open mind. You and you alone get to choose how you play your life. Try to play the right game.