For much of this year I found playing most video games nearly impossible without getting a truly unpleasant anxious rush, and Cloud Gardens was the best medicine for that feeling that I could have been prescribed.

Lots of games are meditative, but not nearly as many are 'meditations' - by which I mean in the transitive sense, allowing one to reflect or focus thoughts onto a repetitive action.

Cloud Gardens gave me pause on several occasions when I considered the implications it was laying out: that human trash and inorganic detritus could, under certain solitary conditions, give rise to it's own life. It almost felt radical in it's simplicity, placing these objects and allowing their aura to emanate and their essence to grow plants through their inherent existence. It made me think about my place in the world, the energy I emit unconsciously, the energy I take in from inanimate objects around me or on my person, the way that reverberates around a room or a house or a yard or a street or a suburb or a city.

It's a simple game, but a beautiful one. For many puzzle games of this variety I find myself reaching for podcasts or documentaries to listen to in the background as I play. With this game, I never felt the need.