I was watching a YouTuber review a game and at one point he said, “Step back and look at the whole board.” Over the years I have heard forms of this advice, but generally the idea, as I understand it, is to think globally and consider the whole board not just the minutia of a local situation. Inspired, I took out the gifu for a recent tournament game that I lost by 3.5 points while playing white to another 2D, and started replaying it on a board.

The board sat on my dining room table, and at about move 60 these words came floating through my brain: take a step back and look at the whole board. So, I did. Firstly, I literally leaned back so that I visually changed how I saw the physical board. At this new angle, the board did in fact look different. This was not just analytical, it became metaphysical—like I had slipped between dimensions and was looking at a whole new game in a slightly different universe. The stones created ripple effects across the board’s surface like a pond. And the lines on the board shimmered like supernatural ley lines, power running through the board. It was as if I had seen the whole board for the first time! Hypnotized, the words came to me again: Step back and look at the whole board.
So, I stood from my chair and took a step back. Now I saw not just the surface of the GO board but its immediate surroundings—the dining room table. I saw the bowls and stray stones laying around. I spied captures I hadn’t kept clean track of and small piles of stones I sometimes ran through my fingers like prayer beads. This could be noisy and I had to learn over the years NOT to do it at tournaments. There was my coffee cup and some old dishes as well. Then I stepped back again.
Now, I stood in the living room, looking in at the whole dining room. I saw dirty dishes, I saw my hoodie had fallen on the floor. My desk where I write these wee essays is in the dining room and I saw its cluttered top. She was not physically present, but the excess mess on my desk brought to mind my wife and her disapproval of my stacking of books, papers, and cables in what seemed to her a random and haphazard manner. (To her credit, her description of the mess is quite accurate: random and haphazard.)

As you get better at GO you start to see several, indeed many moves ahead. I could foresee my wife’s upcoming comments and began to imagine how I would play in the face of her onslaught. I’ve documented in other blog posts that in the game of marriage she is many levels ahead of me, she being a high-level dan player who usually wins and me being a DD-kyu who is kinduv still learning the rules. If I am to ever get better at the game of marriage, I’ll need to step back and look at the whole board. So, I took another step back.
This put me through the front door and on to the porch. We have a nice porch swing and a little café-style set up with chairs and a table. But, through the door, I could see the entire living room and first floor, with my GO board sitting two rooms away on the dining room table. The GO board itself was now one game piece and the entire house the playing field. Every household item rippled as though on a pond—every wall, floor, and surface emanated shining ley lines. And every concern of my wife (legitimate and/or imagined) became past moves leading to future moves. From this perspective, I could see how the GO board itself, my computer desk, and my PS5 were like areas on a whole board but my weak DD-kyu brain couldn’t put together the larger, global patterns. I couldn’t see in all directions yet.
Stepping back again took me to a nearby hill. I could still see my house, from about a quarter-mile away. It now seemed but one GO stones on a board the I could only see a small portion of. The minutes became days and even years—decisions became moves, lifetimes became sections of a board. There was a game going on around me and I only ranked 35-kyu in grasping all the ripples, ley lines, and winning strategies. If only there was a way to keep stepping back. I’m probably too old to become an astronaut, right? That’s’ what my wife told me, anyway, and she’s usually wins our little games. I guess my next move is cleaning my desk?
