Last night I was at my brothers house and we played a rousing game of risk with six starting players. The thing about Risk, is that no matter how good you are, a good deal of winning comes down to luck of the dice. I don’t know that I’m an exceptional Risk player. I know that I’m not bad. I win about 35-40% of the time. I’m not interested in talking about Risk though. You can play it yourself and enjoy the endless treaties, treacheries, and trials of the game.

I am interested in how the game ended today. One player had just been wiped from the board. It looked like I was going to be next. I had three armies to place, and knew that I would have eighteen armies the next turn. I could have held out, but I knew that the odds were very much against me winning a traditional victory. I made a truce with my brother in North America, invaded one territory of another player, then ended my turn.

I immediately started smiling. In the next turn, before I could act again, my force in Asia would be decimated. I would have only my truce protected land in North America. So I did what many good magicians would do. I changed the rules of the game. Don’t get me wrong, I like winning, but as one of the other players knows, if you’re going to lose, best it be on your own terms. I may have been able to win if I had been extremely lucky. More likely I would have been crushed by my brother in the games last couple turns.

Instead of going out that way, I ceded my armies to the control of my brother, and gave him control of my formidable force. In so doing I determined the entire endgame. So I lost, but I also won. I chose the winner of the game. I chose to end it. My brother graciously took my forces and wiped the board clean in an artful and effective military action that crushed the rest of the players.

I did this for two reasons. One, I would rather my brother win than any of the other players. (I could write very lengthy essays about how this works, but if you have a sibling you are exceptionally close to you understand.) The second, and more important, reason is that by doing this I took control of a situation that would have overwhelmed and crushed me otherwise. I chose to be in control of the situation rather than let the turns of fate choose how my end would come. And in so doing I brought about the destruction of the enemies I’d been fighting in North America and Asia. A sacrifice in some ways yes, but the benefit was great.

This is a thought pattern that I think is important to any practitioner of the Art. Not that you make the same choices. By many standards my choice was cowardly and underhanded. I made the game one sided and handed victory to my brother (who probably would have won anyway, but was by no means assured victory). I personally view it as an act of respect and honor, both for myself and my opponent. And in truth, if Alex had not played masterfully the other players would have still had a very good shot of defeating him.

What is important is that we be able to understand that sometimes the rules make it impossible for us to win based on our current situation. When this happens, we must in some way change the rules, circumvent them, or altar our situation. Change the game. This is the type of scenario that magic is perfect for (although petty in the context of a board game). When the cards are stacked against you, play chess instead. Do not let other people, often your opponents in the world, pick the path that you are going to journey down.

In sincerity, that may be the one mistake that many of my opponents in Risk make. I give them very good advice when they ask for it. Often when they don’t. I will almost never give them deliberately bad advice. But I often advise them in ways that will also benefit me, or move them towards a goal that I have chosen for them. In many ways there is nothing wrong with this. Many people choose to be guided in life, by their families, loved ones, religion, Gods, and other influences. The trouble is that nobody knows your heart or mind as well as you. Even with your best interests at heart, nobody can truly give you the best path for you to walk.

The path of the practitioner is one that moves between guidance and discerning choice. One must allow herself to be guided when necessary, but also ignore that guidance and change the game to suit his own desires when the time comes. Letting other people, well intentioned or not, pick your path for you leads ultimately to losing the game, and not caring since you didn’t invest your own decisions or efforts into it.