The great game of life in which we are mere pawns, operates on many levels. Like fish in a deep ocean, they select a depth in which to live; many in the shallows, some midway and a few in the deep. Where fish live is principally determined by their nature. As humans however, we can choose how deep we go.

In past times many people would never leave the village in which they were born. Today, when travel to the extremes of the Earth is possible, there are still those who live their lives without exploring the world. The opportunity for exploration of the mind is also rarely taken, probably due to this same inertia.

In olden times board games were played such a dominoes, draughts and chess in order to pass the time and stimulate these inert minds! These brilliant teaching devices have sadly, over time, been relegated to the nursery. Presumably they are mistakenly thought to be so shallow that they are suitable only for children, (as if children are shallow!).

A good example where this has happened is the game called ‘Snakes and Ladders’ in England or ‘Chutes and Ladders ‘ in the U.S.A. It is thought to have originated in India some two thousand years ago where the game was called Moksha Patam meaning ‘path to enlightenment’ and Gyan Chauper. The player journeys up the board until reaching the final square which symbolises enlightenment.

The Muslim version was used in the Mughal period in the late 17th and early 18 th centuries. The board is divided into one hundred squares (10×10) representing the one hundred names of Allah.

‘Snakes and Ladders’ was renamed and brought back to England by the British at the end of the Raj around 1890. This Victorian version ditched the ‘enlightenment’ element and seized upon the ‘high moral virtues and low moral vices’ depicted and the consequences of both; virtue rewarded and vice punished! Interestingly, the English phrase ‘back the square one’, probably derived from this game.

The Victorian interpretation of the game persists but for the natural philosopher one may find deeper meanings and interpretations. For instance, the players move step by step or square by square in a monotonous way. The sobering expression, ‘a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’ contains this truth.

We can see that the first step on the ladder is the same as the last. Like a marathon runner who collapses at the finish line, the journey has been a seemingly endless repetition steps, like the words of a mantra repeated ad infinitum. Enlightenment does not happen in flash as many imagine.

There are few ‘easy rides’ in life where one is gifted beyond one’s wildest dreams the game does present a few, much to the joy of players! Ladders, which literally express the ‘step by step’ principle, boost pilgrims up to higher squares as a gift, something which we know does happen occasionally in real life, which is called luck.

In the ancient version of the game there are fewer ladders than the snakes. Life in those times was believed to contain more misfortune than good. In modern times the reverse has probably become true although that can change!

Let us think about ladders a moment. Today we might understand them fractals.

It is possible to keep connecting ladders, each new ladder being like a new rung in a higher scale. The sliding combinations of ladders on Fire Engines illustrate how greater heights can be achieved in this way. Ladders have a mysterious quality of being ‘infinite’; disappearing into the clouds like the pantomime ‘Bean Stalk’ which sprouts upwards as a magical fractal. The clouds into which the ladders reach, are commonly depicted as where the ‘giant’ gods live; such a ‘god’ corresponding to the mathematical notion of the infinite expanding for ever beyond the highest number.

Grace from heaven, the ‘golden buzzer of enlightenment’, showers upon life’s winners when they reach the one hundredth square first.

You might expect modern scientific understanding to cancel any insight beyond the moral platitudes, but I would suggest science too embraces the quality of ‘ladders’ in a microscopic dimension.

Imagine you are looking down a microscope at a string of DNA in a human cell. We know that it appears like a double spiral ladder with magical rungs that contain infinite quantities of information. These genes stay alive for thousands of years and can be retrieved from an ancient human tooth for instance.

Take this image of a spiralling formation and magnify it many hundreds of times and it will produce an identical image of our solar system spiralling through space and time.

The cycles of the sun and it’s planets also contain information by which astrologers have always been able to predict the future. Solar systems describe this pattern for billions of years, just as DNA lasts well beyond a humble human life span.

Curiously, and perhaps by coincidence rather than connection, modern geneticists describe the existence of ‘junk’ DNA in humans. It is about 97% of all of a our DNA and suggests a large area of knowledge yet to be discovered – possibly not ‘junk’ at all! In parallel and at another rung on the reproduction of infinite expansions, there is an estimated 94% of dark matter in the Universe which is also beyond current understanding.

So much for ladders; let us now consider the ‘slippery snakes’. People with a phobia of snakes often describe them as being ‘slimy’ perhaps because of the way they slide on their bellies. In actual fact snakes are smooth and dry to the touch. The common phobia towards snakes and reptiles probably accounts for why the ‘wicked tempter’ in Genesis, is depicted as a snake. Humans fell from Divine favour and were burdened with freewill, an aspect of the snakes and ladders game that makes it so exciting.

Just as ‘evil’ angels fell from Heaven, so the snakes on the board game take players down the path they so diligently ascended. There are no ‘thank Heaven holds’ that climbers grip onto when in trouble; it’s just ‘go to jail and do not pass Go.’ We have all probably experienced that feeling at some point in our lives. It is wise to introduced children early to this feeling so they recognise it when it hits them in later life!

Here’s a thought. Did the ancients in India know about digital and analogue information? If the ladder is a digital 101010101, then the snake is a complementary analogue wave. We know today that light has this contradictory quality of a particle and wave, and it is extraordinary that the ladders and snakes mirrored this long before modern science.

Life gives us no choice but teaches us that experiencing of ladders and snakes on our ascent are inevitable. If we think deeper than the moral Victorian versions of the game, then there are extraordinary truths. In a spiralling universe, of which our own bodies are microcosms, we can see that opposites unite each other;

we are both light and dark

we are both knowledge and forgetting

we are both climbing and falling

we are both Heaven and Hell

This understanding appears in the ancient Hermetic laws of Hermes Trismegitus. One of these is ‘Polarity’ and the dual and complimentary nature of opposites.

“Everything is dual; everything has poles; everything has its pair of opposites; like and unlike are the same; opposites are identical in nature but different in degree; extremes meet; all truths are but half-truths; all paradoxes may be reconciled.” —The Kybalion .

This is clearly depicted in the caduceus staff of the Roman god Mercury as a double helix of snakes coiling around a staff towards a pine cone representing the pineal gland in the brain. Today this symbol remains one associated with physical health and well being and appears on ambulances in many countries.

In Hatha Yoga, the counter spiralling Ida and Pingala Nadis wind up and down around the spine like snakes and enable the Kundalini energy to rise and activate the pineal gland; thereby entering the heavenly domain depicted originally, above the snakes and ladders board.

If Moksha Patam and other ancient games continue to be appreciated as shallow past times, then in my view, we will all be ‘back to square one’ quicker than you can slide down a snake!

It is comforting that there are increasing numbers of people who are willing to dive deeper into the games and the stories of the nursery in order to find the hidden treasures from ancient times.

Some of the best humour occurs in very formal situations in which laughter is forbidden. The exploits of the character of Mr. Bean played by Rowan Atkinson often use this device to create impossibly funny situations. It is like steam in a kettle desperate to burst forth but has to be strictly repressed. When there is a release and realisation moment caused by not using the thoughts which we consider ‘logical’.

Humour is a great tool to ‘lighten up’ human beings. Laughter can lift the burden of everyday life bringing a moment of mental and physical ‘enlightenment’. Such a release and realisation is called satori in the Zen Buddhism; a moment of profound personal realisation.

Stressful situations or periods of life can become overwhelming and confusing. Life brings problems; either seen or unseen, controllable or uncontrollable. It is sometimes hard to understand what troubles us and how to overcome it. One of the functions of ‘sport’, I would argue, is to present a simplified version of life on a ‘level playing field’ and scaled down. Then as a team or individual, the game is to obey a string of simple rules. Then we can demonstrate our personal skills to ourselves and others, and the winner is ‘successful’. A cynic would argue that sport is popular because it removes much of the complexity of the ordinary and promises rewards for very little effort by those who stand on the side lines. The players on the other hand are those most in line to gain benefit from the game.

In an attempt to examine this process in sport, I shall use tennis as an example. Professional players at Wimbledon this July will have to obey these rules;

The male or female players will wear all white clothing. They are permitted to rest between games and take light refreshments. They do not speak to their opponent and there are penalties for taking too long to serve and take rests. The rules of tennis are understood and adjudicated by an umpire whose decision is final.

The audience will sit around the court on tiered seats and must remain quiet and motionless during play; with mobile phones turned off.

So the stage is set and play commences. Professional players have achieved exceptionally high levels of skill but are prone to unforced errors which immediately earn opponents a point.

Like most physical games, there is an equal element of the psychology. Players remain ‘poker faced’ throughout the game. If they let emotion take over such as frustration, their mental detachment can be affected causing errors. To remain focused, players sit between games with eyes closed in meditation ignoring unwanted thoughts and distractions.

Players and audience will experience unexpected and unlikely events during play. The most extraordinary is called a ‘fluke’. An example is when a ball hits the top of the net and just falls over in a way that is impossible for the opponent to intercept and loses the point. What philosophers call ‘chance’ has played it’s hand. In Zen Buddhism this is called a ‘controlled accident’. Both skill and chance have combined so perfectly that the unexpected takes place. Or it might be that a bird lands on the court or the ball shoots off into the audience and is caught spontaneously by an alert tennis fan. The effect is one of surprise, as in a joke. The audience had no expectation of what was about to happen and generally, enjoy a moment of delight.

However skilled the player, sometimes chance can take over their state of mind either amplifying mistakes or skill. Suddenly, it is as if one player can do nothing right and the other nothing wrong. Despite the skill of the players, a players state of mind has broken through and taken control.

This state of mind could be described as a state of ‘constant readiness’. The mind and body have been prepared by constant repetition and the perfect moment. In that condition a tennis player becomes like a spring ready to uncoil. Sometimes a player will pick up the ball just before it bounces twice and flick it back with an impossibly clever placement in the opponent’s court. Or there is a high volley delivered by the player high above the head when facing away from the net. It’s rare and highly difficult to achieve and win the point but when it happens even the player making the shot should be surprised and inspired by what their mind / body has just done.

The match, like many individual sports, is like two Samurai performing sword play at an impossible speed and understanding of the unique moment.

One of the skills to be learned in the game of life is spontaneity. Through the application of skill unconsciously – that is without intention – a player can surpass their normal level of play and become quite brilliant.

In the book Zen and the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel, the archer must release the arrow without any intention to do so. This ‘unconscious’ technique can become so precise that the arrow can hit a bullseye even with the archers eyes closed. The event is made perfect by not having a response to it in the ego but letting it pass by without reflection; because reflection is not any part of what has just happened and spoils it.

If we let it, our own lives can become spontaneous and unscripted. Even within the many demands on our time, there will be moments – however rare – when we hit a bullseye. It’s a combination of doing the right thing at the right time, perfectly.

In modern life, holidays are intended to have this quality of ‘freedom’ but by definition, spontaneity cannot be planned. Sometimes the intended release from normal life can be spoilt by the literal and psychological baggage that we drag along with us.

I was in an airport a few months ago and jumped into a lift occupied by a young lady. She had with her three of the largest suitcases I have ever seen. I smiled and joked, ‘did you leave anything behind?’ She smiled back. People don’t normally speak to each other in lifts; I broke a rule and created a moment during a journey that was otherwise unmemorable.

Sometimes this gentle humour from those around us will prompt an insight into one’s true nature. It may take several experiences with the same message but eventually, there can be insight.

Ironically, it is children who enjoy the greatest moments of satori and it is that freedom of thought and action that brings so much admiration and delight to adults.

When I was in primary school, our teacher had left her class and a rain storm suddenly broke out. Without a thought the whole class ran out into the rain and danced ecstatically; free from the rules of ‘school’. It was a pure collective satori moment.

This story also expresses a special quality of Zen. This is the realisation of how the most ‘ordinary’ events, can provide the most sublime experiences in life.

A Zen monk was once asked, ‘what is Zen?’ He replied, ‘When I eat I eat, when I sleep, I sleep.’ The questioner was not satisfied with this answer and argued that we all do this. It is normal. The monk replied that when most people eat they are thinking of some other thing and when they sleep they are dreaming.

Zen pupils are introduced to this idea through such formal teaching methods as the Tea Ceremony. Each action and object involved in the ritual is a crucible for realising those things that do not fit into the ‘normal’ and ‘expected’ and ‘overlooked’ or ‘unconscious’ within the routine. It might be a fly entering the room or a lizard falling from the ceiling or a crack in the lid of the tea pot. If you are late for the ceremony and find yourself standing nervously outside, the teacher will judge you on how the moment you choose to enter. That moment will ideally not interrupt the ritual – especially because the choice was spontaneous. The right choice might prompt inner delight, the wrong choice, later admonition.

So the hum drum experience of sport and indeed life, in which moments of deep personal insight occur uniquely, is made richer by the spontaneous and non-reflected moments. Ironically, the more formal, the more repetitive and hum drum the situations we experience are, the more likely the satori moment will just happen.

Just watch and be amazed.