A
few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of going to the Midwest Go Open in
Delaware, Ohio. I was shocked by how many people turned out! Finding
40 some odd Go players, let alone getting them in the same room, is
quite the feat. I got to see other Go players I hadn’t seen for years.
Towards the end of the week, I headed to the bar with a friend of mine,
Ben. I find that during Go tournaments, I have the best philosophical
conversations. Ben and I talked about what is
the actual distinction between a 3 dan, 5 dan, 7 dan player. Part of
it is attitude. Ben made a great observation. He said that lower
ranked dan players have less focus than higher ranked players. He noted
this when he saw a 1 dan Japanese professional play in the U.S. Open, she had laser like focus on the game. When she played, she poured
herself into every move. I thought I would try it myself the next day.
The
next morning, I sat down to play my third game of the tournament. I
decided that I would make it a goal to remain utterly focused on my
game. I immediately recognized that my attention would wander. When
waiting for my opponent to play, I would look at my neighbor's
board and see how things were going. My eyes would wander. I would
remember the lyrics to a rap battle I had listened to earlier in the
week. I’d fidget and think about how cold the room was.
I
realized that my lack of attention was wasting precious time. Did I
really have the game so well in hand I could afford to not pay
attention? Instead of letting my mind wander to the next extraneous
object, I instead gently pushed myself back to the game. Every second I
spent looking at my neighbor's board position, watching the ceiling, or
humming a tune in my head, was one second I was not spending on the here and now, the board in front of me.
I
decided to just gently bring my mind back to the game every time my
eyes would wander. It shocked me just how unfocused on the game I was!
It was hard at first, but I started to force myself to use my time
wisely. If my opponent was taking a long time to think about their
move, I forced myself to read out variations. If I felt that I had the
variations read out to the best of my ability, I counted territory. If I
felt I had a handle on the balance of territory, I read out end game
moves and tried to find good tesujis. Where were the sente, double sente, and gote moves in the end game going to be? What order should I play them?
I
felt the game took on a new dimension for me. It was like meditation.
I’ve done mindfulness meditation before. It relies on focusing on your
breath, letting your wild brain wander, and then refocusing it on a
focal point in the physical world. To keep your brain on the straight
and narrow, you usually have a focus, usually counting forwards or
backwards from 1 to 10. Playing a game of Go where I focused all my
attention on the game was no different.
My
level of play went up. My opponent didn’t surprise me with moves I
hadn’t considered. I could make better tactical decisions because I
counted constantly. I won 3 out of the 4 games at the Midwest Open.
The second I started focusing completely on my game, the more I was able
to bring my knowledge of the game to bear. I also noticed my emotional
state was better during the game. I didn’t feel anxious, nervous, or
fearful of losing. Focus brought me a feeling of objectivity. I think
in the future I will take this lesson and apply it to life, and focus on
the board in front me of me, wherever I happen to be.
