Week 1 — What Game Am I Playing?
How attention, ambition, and identity quietly drift out of alignment
“I was raw, then cooked, then burned. — Mevlana Rumi
We began this journey with fasting.
Not to test willpower. Not to perform discipline.
But to interrupt the game.
And that question—posed gently but precisely by Süleyman Hoca in Istanbul—has been with us all week:
What game are you playing with your life?
And is it the one you meant to play?
The Real Game
In Sufi understanding, we begin life as luminous beings—pure but unconscious.
Then the ego forms. It builds identity, agency, and ambition. It’s part of the path.
But if we stop there, we miss the deeper purpose.
The real game is not to succeed in the marketplace of attention.
It’s to return—to the Divine.
To remember the deeper source of our being, and let that shape how we live, lead, and love.
As Süleyman put it:
Too many people get stuck in the airport duty-free—shopping for comfort, status, or stimulation—and forget there was a flight to catch.
They miss the journey home.
What Rumi Meant by “Love”
This return is what Rumi called love—not romance, but a longing to reunite with the Divine.
It’s a pull. A quiet, persistent force.
Like spiritual gravity—always present, never diminished by distance.
The soul is a compass.
The Divine is the magnetic field.
And the ego is a little magnet, lodged inside us, that pulls us off course.
We don’t destroy the ego. We weaken its grip—so the needle can orient again.
How? Through self-observation.
Through practices that help us pause, see, and choose again.
From Hunger to Choice
On Tuesday, we fasted the body.
And noticed the ego’s first reflex: to seek comfort.
On Thursday, we fasted the mind.
And noticed the second reflex: to judge, to complain, to control.
These sensations are real.
But they are not you.
Just as the body produces hunger, the ego produces reactivity.
Both feel automatic—but both can be witnessed. And when witnessed, they become optional.
This is the deeper practice:
To create space between the sensation and the self.
Between the ego’s magnet and the soul’s compass.
And when in doubt, Süleyman offered a simple principle:
Notice what your ego wants you to do—and do the opposite.
The X-Ray of the Ego
Now, we go one level deeper.
This weekend, we invite you to try Süleyman’s diagnostic exercise:
The X-Ray of the Ego.
You’ll need 15–20 minutes. Three sheets of paper. No edits. No filters.
Write for five minutes each:
Then look.
Ask:
This is not about guilt.
It’s about becoming visible to yourself.
And it’s even more powerful when shared with someone close:
A partner, a sibling, a friend, a teenager.
Let them hear your list. Let them ask questions. Let them share theirs.
A Modern View of Maturity
Modern developmental psychology supports this path.
We now know that maturation doesn’t stop at age 18 or 21.
The capacity for self-awareness, perspective-taking, and ethical responsibility deepens—if we practice.
One of the key cognitive shifts that emerges in late adolescence is the ability to observe oneself while acting.
That’s what we’ve practiced all week:
These are not spiritual tricks. They are developmental breakthroughs.
And they are how we begin to loosen the ego’s grip.
A Final Reflection
What is the game you’re playing?
Not in public—but in your inner economy of effort, identity, and control?
If the answer feels unclear, that’s okay.
Because even noticing the question means you’ve already stepped off autopilot.
And when you see what your ego wants, but choose otherwise,
even once—that’s a return.
From ego, to essence.
From reaction, to remembrance.
From raw, to cooked.
From cooked, to burned.
We continue again next week. Until then sit and cook more with your lists.
—Alper
McKinsey, Korn Ferry, Screenwriter, TEDx: Without overheads :-)
3moThoughtful post, thanks Dr. Alper and love the Duty Free analogy, amongst so many other gems 😀