The LIfe of Chess
It was a bright spring afternoon and I was taking a stroll
through the quiet neighborhood with my family. My dad, brother and I were
taking turns passing a small, foam football back and forth and reveling in the
good throws and awesome catches we managed. I was probably 14 years of age and
looking good in public was a top priority for me.
I caught a pass that had gone long and felt the beauty of
the moment. Everything was lined up as I ran onto the deep green grass strip
next to the sidewalk and connected with the oblong ball that was my target. In
my excitement to boast in my accomplishment and relive the details, I started
walking further down the strip while my head was turned back towards my
parents.
I knew there was a tree coming up and was surprised when I
smashed into it head-first. I had assumed I was walking straight and would miss
the tree. Turns out, however, that as my head was rotated, the rest of my body
went off course, following the direction I was looking. My parents laughed at
the comical scene and I was embarrassed, feeling like my life was over because
I no longer looked cool, despite the amazing catch.
Luckily, I wasn’t scarred for life and began the process of
learning an important life lesson: If you lose focus and don’t look where it is
you want to go in life, you’ll get off track. As I learned this lesson more
deeply over years of study and application, I noticed a connection to the idea
of losing focus and the game of chess.
When my wife and I first got married, the only game we had
was a chess set my friend had given me in high school. We played many games
back to back for a while but eventually decided to put the set away because it
became a source of contention for us rather than a nice form of entertainment. The
biggest reason for the contention was that I kept losing and would get in a bad
mood as we played. To cope with my losses, I concluded that I was simply not good
at multitasking and managing all those different moving pieces in one concerted
effort.
Years down the road, the contentious games of chess were
forgotten. My wife and I decided to play together and asked why it had been so
long. We soon remembered exactly why and almost decided to put it up for good.
However, this time I didn’t just label myself as unable to multitask. Instead,
I questioned why I felt incapable and realized that the brunt of my feelings of
frustration in playing the game stemmed from my plans being foiled. My number
one goal in playing chess had always been to not mess up, or, in other words,
not lose any pieces. I never made a game plan; I just didn’t want to lose. If I
did lose a piece that I wasn’t suspecting I would feel like all was lost and would
be caught in a downward spiral.
As I thought through my tendencies while playing, it dawned
on me that if I was hyper-focused on my goal not to lose pieces, I was missing
the point of the whole game. The winner is not the one who loses the least
pieces but is the one that is able to incapacitate his or her opponent’s king.
This is true regardless of how many pieces are left, how long it takes, and how
dynamic one player’s game-plan is or is not.
With this new enlightenment, I felt a desire not to win a
game of chess but to use my creativity and knowledge of the pieces’ movements
to formulate a plan of attack and see how that changed things. I told my wife
of my lightbulb, self-reflection and promised not to get angry if I lost. She
agreed to play again, and I lost a few times because, inevitably, she would
make a move that frustrated or hindered the plan of attack I set out to deploy
at the start of each game.
Yet, since my focus was on learning how to strategize
according to the purpose of the game, I soon found a balance between updating
my plan as the game progressed and seeing how her pieces affected my king.
And then it happened.
For the first time ever, I was able to checkmate my
opponent’s king by following through on a strategy that I laid out and
manipulated as needed, depending on where her pieces were. It felt great to not
only know what the pieces do but to understand how to play the game of chess.
Not only that, but once I learned how to strategize in this
way and gain the confidence to push through the opposition, I started making a
connection from my setbacks in chess to those in my life challenges. The moment
I started doing well in chess was the moment I focused on the point of the
game. Similarly, there were other things in life I was failing at because I was
not recognizing the main point of what I was working on.
The scriptures point out this failing to understand as
missing the mark. Jacob 4:14 – “But behold, the Jews were a stiffnecked people;
and they despised the words of plainness, and killed the prophets, and sought
for things that they could not understand. Wherefore, because of their
blindness, which blindness came by looking beyond the mark, they must
needs fall”.
The Jews looked beyond the mark. After my nice football
catch, I looked away from the mark. Then, during my struggles to play chess, I
completely disregarded the mark. In each of these scenarios, the key point is
that my focus on the correct mark was not there.
Just like in chess, one big aspect of life is a push to
become an individual who is no longer frustrated by changes and setbacks. Our
opponent is the devil and the things that keep us from focusing on following
the gospel of Jesus Christ. When we do make mistakes, there is a plan in place
for us to utilize the Atonement of Christ. It is also important to recognize
that Heavenly is the grandmaster. He has everything figured out and it is
ultimately His strategy in play. We only need to trust Him to incapacitate our
opponent and reach our goals. We don’t have to face checkmate in this life. We are
participating in the Lord’s ‘game’ of strategy, the life of chess.

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