I’m not talking about a literal game. I’m talking about literal life.

It’s absurd to talk about “life”. Or, as Marvin the android said, “Life? Don’t talk to me about life!” But we do.

We can try to talk about life, but it’s like talking about anything, except “life” is not just “anything”; it’s virtually “everything”. Whatever you talk about, it’s as much talking about talking and words as it is about anything else. And for “life”, even more so.

But I want to talk (well, write) about it anyway.

What do I mean by “life”? I’m not even sure I know. But right now, I’m acutely aware that my “life”, as a “person” in “society”, is more than I can really handle. At least, emotionally. But if you’re emotionally overwhelmed, then it makes everything harder.

I’ve never been that great at life management. I’ve never been that great at emotional management. Which is to say, becoming an adult was something I struggled with—if being an adult equates to being able to manage one’s emotions. The more adult-like, the more stoic, and able to weather chaotic events without losing one’s bearings and control.

OTOH, I have been better than average at certain kinds of management. At least, anything I could turn into an algorithm, routine, or mechanical habit. Being responsible takes more than good habits. It requires concientious attention. Mindless routines can’t account for failures, crises, or even life's more banal changes. Our lives change, because the world changes. People, our bodies, the rules we have to live by. Some changes are a net positive, but they still requires adaptation.

I wish it was easier. There should be tools to help. But no tool can truly replace accountability. You have to pay attention. Or things go off the rails. But you only have so much attention. Unless you can buy it from others. And then, you have to pay attention to them, to make sure they’re paying attention to whatever you have delegated.

This is why, in so many ways, technology—computers and software—have not really lived up to their hype. Yes, some things can be automated, and other things can be accelerated. But only monotonous things that can be converted into algorithms. While a lot of life might be like that, the most important things are not. Computers are just a form of delegation, except that they are exceptionally good at simple tasks, and exceptionally bad at complex ones. And computer programs are only as good as the people who wrote them, tested them, and debugged them.

Management is another word for “control”. Or at least it’s an aspect of control. It goes along with (or includes) communication, and coordination (or organization). But it especially means keeping track of things, usually with records, documents, tables, or other databases. Doesn’t have to be digital, let alone relational. But such things require constant maintenance, to keep them in sync with reality.

Control is a privilege of power. If you have no power, you have no control, so you don’t need to manage anything. People who acquire power, but cannot manage what is under their control, inevitably lose it prematurely. Otherwise, it’s not really power, but merely formally recognized status. Anyone ostensibly in their service will probably not serve them well. Although some people are good at managing one kind of power—say, money—while being bad at other kinds—subordinates, or material possessions, or their own bodies.

But the converse is also true: if you aren’t good at managing, and paying attention, you can’t increase your power. And that includes money. Money is a kind of power. People who can’t manage their money can’t hold onto it, let alone increase it. Plenty of people fall into money, then waste it, and neglect what they buy with it, and eventually are left with nothing.

If there’s anything to learn from this, it’s that one has to find a sweet spot. You can’t take on more responsibility than you can manage, if you want to avoid driving yourself crazy.

I might be in over my head, a little bit. Which means i need to relinquish, or I need to get better at managing things.