89. The life of a weiqi (go/baduk) master

The life of a Weiqi master goes like this: The masters have a game of Weiqi. At the end they put the board and stones away. And spend the rest of the evening reminiscing about how great or poorly they played the game. The end. Between games, the Weiqi master does not exist. He or she lives as a dream within the mind of a person doing a nine to five job that they may or may not like. The life of a Go player is pretty much the same, even though the name of the game has changed. The only difference is that one lives in China and the other person lives in Japan. And the Baduk guy lives in Korea. They see the soap opera of people's daily lives as an outwardly manifestation of what is happening within themselves. So when they walk past a television screen and see the news and witness that one country is at war with another country, over whatever petty reason, they will tell you that that was yesterday's game because the idiots in charge are living in the past. But that is politics and war. Not Weiqi. The true secret is knowing when we are trying to make it work. Sometimes we don't even know we are doing it. Many years ago, when I first moved into my apartment, we used to park our car in the space that we thought had been assigned to us. Then after a year of parking there, we got those 'move it or else ' letters that people sometimes leave on car windscreens. At the time, as you can imagine, it was a bit of shock and we duly blamed the real estate agent who sold us the place. But with all contracts, the buck stopped with us and we had to find out from strata where our carpark space was. As we drove to the space, I was still in the past trying to make it work. But when I saw the new space, I was gobsmacked. It turned out to be right beside the elevator and spaced out so that the doors on all sides of the car can be fully opened. The only other guy with a space remotely like mine drives a Lamborghini. God bless him ⚔️圍棋戰聖