It was, in the eternal words of HUNTR/X, golden.

It’s Thursday morning, and as of right now, I’ve already written my before my coffee gets cold for the week. It’s an installment about grieving. You see, I lost something that mattered to me this week. And Tuesday morning, it was all I could think about. Naturally, I wrote about it. It turned into a “piece.” I’m actually quite proud of it.

But now, it’s Thursday, and those feelings seem much further away. They’ve had a chance to settle. They don’t feel quite so raw. In part, time has passed — and as they say, time heals. But perhaps more important than that, the life I’ve lived these past few days has been especially beautiful. It’s given me perspective. It’s reminded me of the many wellsprings I have in my life.

That beauty, I realize, has come from one thing: community.

I’ve felt it so deeply this week. My life has been brimming with it. And today, I wanted to share one aspect of that with you:

Since Monday, my teammate and I have been running player labs. I work in R&D — also known as the “super secret stuff” — and it’s rare that anyone outside of our immediate organization gets to see our game. While it does generate a cool sense of elitism and intimacy, it can feel pretty isolating. I love making games because I love making gamers happy. Much of the joy in creation is watching how others engage in the things I create. Sometimes, however, it feels like my job is mostly just generating decks and spreadsheets. It’s less about making things, and more about justifying the things we make. It’s a cool job. I enjoy it. But it can be easy to feel disconnected from why that even matters.

This week, though, I got to break the mold. My work reached beyond my peers and stakeholders and connected with the people we’re making this for: real-world gamers. Through our labs, I was able to show players all the amazing shit my team has been up to. I heard their opinions, watched them get excited, and documented their criticism. I connected. I learned. I measured up all my strategic and analytical thoughts against the people who actually matter. It was, in the eternal words of HUNTR/X, golden.

And best of all, I now get to share all those findings back to my team. Then they’ll get excited. They’ll be able to do their jobs better. They’ll have a better vision of who we’re making all this for.

This week, my job wasn’t to be a data cruncher or strategist: this week, my job was to be a community facilitator. A builder of connections. The bridge between what we’re doing, and why we’re doing it.

And that’s awesome.

Another day, I’ll tell you more about the other spaces in which I feel community: my beloved D&D group, my Wednesday choir practices, Battle Game, and others.

But today, I’ll let this be enough.