Saying No to Pokemon Go?

“Whenever you feel stupid, remember that there are people outside looking for Pokemon.” - the Internet

It was a lazy summer afternoon, and young Brian strolled the streets in the Gravesend area of Brooklyn with his mother. They were hunched over an iPhone, giggling madly, as Brian tried to catch a Pikachu creature hovering in front of the nearby Dunkin Donuts. They were playing Pokemon Go together.

Success! Brian squealed with delight as his new monster was added to his Pokedex. His mom laughed, matching Brian’s enthusiasm.

I was amused, but a little frustrated. You see, I was in on the game, and I was this close to catching Pikachu before Brian beat me to it.

I walked by with a half-grin on my face, and Brian’s mother smiled knowingly. “You playing too?”

That summed up my week with Pokemon Go: Brief, fun, and a somewhat shared experience.

It seems that Pokemon Go splits people into two groups: those who play, and those that judge the people who play (see quote above). I found myself in the latter category, which didn’t feel right. So I decided to give it a go. Who knows? Maybe I would actually enjoy it.

How many things do we decide we won’t like before we do them? Brussels sprouts, for example. Or a kale smoothie. Yoga. Knitting. Painting. Journaling. Fishing. Book clubs. Karaoke. Civil War reenactments.

I come across this a lot when mentioning mindfulness or meditation. Wrinkly noses and shaking heads. And just like that, a potentially life-changing experience is gone without even a try.

Pokemon Go isn’t a game that I’d continue to play, but I feel like I understand it now. I know what about it is attractive. I can have my opinions on it, but I no longer need to judge others and their decisions.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is: don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Don’t knock anything until you’ve tried it. You don’t need to try it, but at least don’t knock it. Have some respect for other human beings, and have some appreciation for the vastness and complexity of this world and our ability to experience it.

Now excuse me, I’m late to my first trapeze class.