The Joy of Wanting

When I was a young teenager, I played a game called Runescape with my friends. It was one of the first MMOs available, so it was a real novelty to log in to my account (via dial-up), get together with my friends or other people playing at the same time from all around the world, and level up my character in a fantasy world. Runescape was a game that took a lot of time and work to be worthwhile. The old version of Runescape that I played back then has actually since become available to play, but I just simply don't have enough free time to get anywhere in the game anymore (if my old account hadn't have been hacked and then banned, maybe I could at least enjoy the level my old character had attained). Needless to say, Runescape was a big part of my early adolescence, and it's even the medium where I first used the name "Abelhawk."

Besides being a fulfilling pastime, a way to meet people (My first girlfriend, in a very loose sense, was met there), and a way to make memories with my friends, Runescape taught me a very important lesson about the value of money, work, and time. Since my parents limited my time on the computer, it took me weeks to level up to the point where I could use level-specific features like runite armor, or one of my most sought-after honors: the Cook's Guild. The very nature of the game was a focus on leveling up skills to make more valuable items for sale, venture into more dangerous areas, and gain more spectacular items, so each personal achievement I reached, from finishing all the quests to getting to a high enough level with crafting to make gold amulets, was very satisfying.

Money in particular was something that Runescape taught me the value of in the way only a video game can for a teenager. Since I didn't have to worry about rent and bills in real life, having to worry about saving up for powerful weapons and items in game taught me to save up my gold coins and not waste them on things I would consume quickly (like healing food and potions) or things I could craft for cheaper if I was trying to complete a quest. If I wanted to save up for that runite scimitar, I needed to walk all the way across the continent instead of buying a teleportation Law Rune for 1,000 gp to make it faster.

Then came a fateful day when I learned something very important. On my fifteenth birthday, my brother went to my dad's store (since it had Wi-Fi, back then called DSL) and told me to log into Runescape. I logged in, and when I found his character Flufhamster, he opened a trade window with me and gave me 100k coins! I had never seen such a sum of money in the game. I thanked him for his (technically illegal) purchase of in-game money with real life money from a gold farmer as I made my character do his "cheer" emote. From then on, life in the game was easy, I bought a full suit of runite plate armor, a dragonstone amulet, a dragonstone ring, a runite scimitar, and all the tools and items that I had been saving up for—all things that I had only dreamed of ever saving enough money to buy with my limited amount of time to acquire money. With pride, I set off into the world with all the things I had been saving up for, and with money to spare!

...and then I got bored of the game.

What's the point of playing a game like Runescape, a game of achievement and hard work, if all the work for you is done in an instant? I found myself easily beating monsters with my powerful gear, the quests no longer a challenge, and without any real long-term goals to be excited about. I had been robbed of my joy of playing the game because of a gift of money. Sure, I played every once in a while in the coming years. Money couldn't buy things like leveling up your agility skill or completing puzzle quests. But for me, the game's fun was largely spent, and I ended up lending the account to my friend, who wasted the rest of the money, and some time after that my account was hacked and banned for good.

Compare this with another game that I got a bit earlier than Runescape, Warcraft III. Obviously, you can tell I'm still a huge fan of this game, and thanks to it I have my one claim to fame on YouTube. I still love Warcraft III to this day, and I attribute my love of it largely to how hard I worked to get it. As a kid, I absolutely loved Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness, so when I found out that a third Warcraft was being made, I was ecstatic. My brother and I immediately started saving money in a jar, doing chores for change, amassing all of the money we made winning a family reunion raffle into it, and otherwise just scrimping and saving for the big day we could get it. I'll never forget that first day loading up the game, playing through the tutorial, and trying out the map editor. It was the culmination of anticipation and hard work that paid off in the best possible way. I played that game for years, made hundreds of maps on it, planted seeds of my current programming career from learning its trigger-based scripting language, and of course, eventually leading a crusade of nostalgia via YouTube and meeting one of its designers.

Would I have appreciated Warcraft III as much if I had just been given it as a gift for my birthday? Possibly—after all, I've received many other games before and since it that I've loved and treasured dearly. And my Calvin & Hobbes collection is made up of books I bought myself and received as birthday presents. But I think the fact that I had to work to save up for it just sweetened its purchase for me and made it just a little bit more mine than my other games.

I've come to realize as I grow older just how much fun it is to want things. Obviously, lacking necessities is always a stressful thing. Runescape probably wouldn't have been fun at all if I had gained only a few gold coins a week while playing it. But all the time you hear about people reminiscing about "simpler" times of their life, or times when they had to get by by eating ramen every day or not being able to afford to wash their clothes. We grow so much more when we have things to want. When we have everything, or when things come easily, we tend to treat them as if they are of lesser value, even if they would cost anyone else an arm and a leg. After receiving a large tenure bonus in Amazon gift cards when I left my last job, I flippantly spent $60 on a board game that I haven't played yet, and possibly never will now that I've looked more closely at how it's played. If I had been intrigued by the board game and had saved up for it, that would have given me more time to research its rules and realize that it probably wasn't for me. The ease of having so many dollars to work with and the mindset of "It's such a small part of the whole" is extremely harmful. Whether I had spent all my money on the board game or $60 of $1,000, I still wasted $60. Think of the value of $60—with that much money I could've gone out to eat with my wife three or four times, making four different memories of dates. I could've saved that $60 for a game that hasn't come out yet on Amazon that would have given me much more satisfaction. I could've used the money to supplement games that I already know that I enjoy, like D&D, and enhance their fun, rather than trying to find something new I didn't need.

Wanting can be a big part of life even money aside. We always appreciate things that we go without, such as free time or proximity to a loved one. I feel sorry for people who refuse to have children so they can have all the money they want for vacations and lavish lifestyles for their whole lives. Where's the fun in that if you never know what it's like not to have it? That's where words like "spoiled" and "entitled" come from, and where judgmental people come from. The only thing I think it's not good to lack is experience. The more experience you have, the more you have to compare things with and truly appreciate them.

I think what this all boils down to most is family. What could possibly be more of a labor of love, more of a journey of unexpected results, and more of an effort full of wanting and lacking than having a family? I could have a lot more money right now if I hadn't had kids, but would that money have been well spent? Would I have learned the invaluable lessons I know today if I hadn't had to sacrifice? I could have taken my year-long coding certification instead of getting a Bachelor's degree years ago and be years ahead in my career than I am now, but at what cost? I wouldn't have learned so much about the subjects I love in linguistics, I wouldn't be able to basically understand German, Latin, Anglo-Saxon, and French, nor would I have memories of meeting illustrious professors and taking creative writing classes. Technically, I wouldn't have met my wife either.

There's nothing wrong with having, but wanting is so much more fun. It nurtures a feeling of lasting gratitude for accomplishments and helps us take things more seriously. It helps us understand and empathize with the suffering of others. It makes us better people overall. The next time you want something so badly you can barely stand it, look back at other things that you wanted and then got. Do you still appreciate them? Do you give them the respect they deserve after you earned them through toil, scrimping and saving, pain, or patience? Whether it's a spouse or a house, a career or a black belt, a certification or a state of sobriety, wanting is healthy, and we should relish the time we have looking forward.