“No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
— John Donne
Indeed, no man is an island. But oftentimes it is hard to remember that.
Too often, life seems to drift away. If you’re like me, then you know the feeling well… you’re busy at work, you’re busy with the family, you’re tired, you’re not feeling well, you need to focus on your health, and more and more and more and more. When it gets heavy, there really isn’t any time for you to be “you” and that includes dedicating time to the little things that make you happy.
In that busy, hectic lifestyle is a loneliness, an isolation. You are out and among people all the time, but you yourself don’t feel like a person. You feel like more of a drone tasked with an endless list of jobs to be done, boxes to be checked. No man is an island, but occasionally we find ourselves stuck on one.
So, what on Earth does this have to do with Magic? Or with OS 93/94?
Sometimes, you find a message in a bottle on your island. It could be a podcast where the 2 hosts are discussing some spicy decks they saw at a regional tournament. It could be a blog post highlighting a new deck idea. It could be a text from your buddy asking you to come out and jam some games (even though you have to refuse for the 10th time in a row due to scheduling issues). It could be the 5 minutes you have to drop into a Discord discussion or look at Facebook. Whatever it is, there are lots of ways that the community can make you feel connected when you’re marooned.
To be fair, community is a two-way street. Simply consuming media doesn’t really equate to being a full-fledged member of the community. There is a bargain that is agreed to with community. You have to promise to give at least as much as you get.
Does this preclude the man on the island from participating?
In my experience, I would say it does not. Indeed, taking from the community incurs a debt to be repaid. But my experience suggests that the terms of credit are forgiving and lenient. Those of same mind as you, nostalgic for a game that existed long ago or, in some ways, only in ours hearts and imaginations, are patient. If today you are not able to get into hours long conversations about how to play The Deck in Swedish vs EC, or you’re not able to help someone out in finding their 4th copy of Rukh Egg, or you’re not able to get out to the local bar for the weekly meet-up, it’s okay.
If you’re really invested in the community, then the community knows you’ll be there when you’re able.
In the meantime, if you find yourself on an island, comb the beach and look for a bottle with a note inside. Just knowing someone else is out there on the other side of the sea will lift you up.