I'm always thinking about whatever game I'm working on. My brain

“I’m always thinking about whatever game I’m working on. My brain works subconsciously on design pretty much every hour I’m awake.” So said Jane McGonigal, a creator whose mind walks between the worlds of play and purpose. In these words, she reveals the sacred restlessness of the true maker — that quiet fire which never sleeps, even when the body does. For those who are called to create, the work is not a task that begins and ends with the rising and setting of the sun; it is a calling that whispers in every breath, weaving itself into the rhythms of thought and dream alike. Such is the nature of devotion — the union of soul and craft.

From the earliest times, the great builders, poets, and inventors have known this same divine obsession. The ancient sculptor who chipped marble from dawn to dusk could not close his eyes without seeing the statue still trapped within the stone. The philosopher who sought truth could not rest, for even in slumber his mind wandered among ideas as stars across a boundless sky. McGonigal’s words echo this eternal truth: when one’s purpose is clear, the mind becomes the forge, and life itself becomes the act of shaping.

This unending focus, this subconscious labor of the spirit, is not a burden but a blessing. For when passion and creation intertwine, they form a force stronger than time — the force of vision. Consider the tale of Nikola Tesla, who claimed that inventions came to him fully formed in flashes of light, as if born from the divine. He could see them in his mind’s eye, spinning and working in perfect detail, before any hand had touched metal. His brain, too, worked “every hour he was awake,” driven by a storm of inspiration that refused to rest. Such minds do not belong wholly to the world of men; they dwell half in the realm of imagination, where thought and creation are one.

Yet this gift carries a shadow — for those who burn with creation risk being consumed by their own fire. To think unceasingly is to walk a narrow path between brilliance and exhaustion. The ancients understood this balance well. They spoke of the muse who blesses and curses in equal measure. The wise creator learns not to silence the inner voice, but to channel it — to give it rhythm and rest, as one might tame a river’s wild current into fertile flow. For even the most brilliant design requires not only passion, but discipline — the art of transforming endless thought into form.

McGonigal’s words also remind us of the power of the subconscious — that hidden chamber of the mind where creativity stirs without command. The conscious mind plants the seed, but it is in the dark soil of the unconscious that it takes root. Great ideas often come not when one forces them, but when one lives alongside them, letting them breathe in silence. The artist who walks, the designer who dreams, the thinker who simply lives — all are at work even in their quietest moments. Thus, creation is not a single act, but a continuous becoming.

The lesson, then, is clear: devotion transforms the ordinary into the divine. Whatever your craft, whatever your calling, let it dwell within you until it becomes a second heartbeat. Do not work merely with your hands, but with your entire being. Let your thoughts linger upon your creation in the market, at the table, in the stillness before sleep. For mastery is born not of occasional effort, but of a love that never fully lets go.

And so, to those who seek greatness, heed this teaching: Live your work until it breathes through you. Let your mind, even in its quiet hours, serve your vision. But do not be enslaved by it — be its partner, its vessel, its shepherd. For when passion and purpose dwell together in harmony, every moment of life becomes creation itself. Like McGonigal, may you find joy in the endless shaping of your world — awake, alive, and ever in motion, as the mind that never ceases to dream.