The path to a new perspective

It started as a quick session of Satisfactory, the kind of game where “just one more thing” spirals into hours of construction bliss. Six hours later, I found myself staring at an intricate web of footpaths that stretched across my industrial empire. Not power grids, not factories, but footpaths. My brain had been utterly captivated. And yet, if someone asked me to do something similar at work, I’d probably groan. So why was this mindless, yet meticulous task so wildly entertaining?

Perhaps the answer lies in the psychological mechanics at play when we’re engaged in activities like gaming. At its heart, Satisfactory is a sandbox. A world where I am not only the architect but also the boss. I am free to control the pace, execute my own vision, and bask in the immediate results of my efforts. There’s no looming deadline, no external critique, no real-world stakes. In contrast, doing a similar task at work often feels like labor under obligation, driven by necessity rather than choice.

Psychologically, this taps into my brain’s love for autonomy and instant gratification. Games like Satisfactory rewards me with dopamine hits for completing even the smallest tasks. The simple act of laying down a straight path, followed by another, and another, activates my sense of accomplishment. Combine that with the meditative flow state I find in repetitive, structured activities, and it’s no wonder that the hours disappear.

Perhaps there is something deeper here? A reflection on how our perception of tasks changes when we’re intrinsically motivated. In the game, I wasn’t just building footpaths. I was creating order, harmony, in a chaotic virtual world. The activity felt meaningful in that context because I had imbued it with my own purpose.

This contrast reminds me how much our attitude can shape our experience. Work often feels disengaging because we don’t have ownership over our tasks, or because we’re disconnected from the larger significance. In the world of Satisfactory, I’m the artist, engineer, and ruler of my domain.

As I save my game and shut it down, I’m still marveling at the fact that something as simple as footpaths could bring me so much joy. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the meaning of what we do is less about what we do and more about why we do it, and the lens through which we choose to see it. In the end, perhaps it’s not just footpaths I built in those six hours, but a path to a new perspective.

Time well spent!