Not just a cosy refuge, the video game showed me how to stop and appreciate what I had achieved, without constantly feeling I had to do more
M
inecraft is my life. I got into it around 2012, when I was 23, and I’ve been playing ever since. It’s a game of endless possibility. You can do anything in it. You can build your own houses, machines, businesses, and put your own personality on to it. It’s an easy escape and can become quite addictive. It’s just so much more colourful, fun and cosy than the real world.
But when you play this game for a decade you start to learn this incredible lesson about patience. It’s essentially a game where you build your world one block at a time. In the moment it’s this lovely dopamine-drip exercise, but recently it’s started to change my perspective on the world. You look back at what you’ve created and begin to appreciate all the work you’ve put in. I know that might sound silly. It’s just a game about blocks. But until you zoom out with time and perspective you don’t appreciate it for what it is.
Since January, I’ve changed my approach to the game. We’d just shot my sitcom, Transaction, in the winter and it was a wonderful experience. But then Trump’s inauguration happened halfway through and all this terrible messaging for transgender people came with it. It all got too much. Everything became about patching over that pain with personal achievement. And that’s what Minecraft is on one level. You build and you build and you don’t think about anything. But that’s not a sustainable way to live. To stop and take a break and celebrate the things you have achieved – rather than trying to escape your worry by achieving more – is something I started to adopt.
