A couple of days ago I downloaded Prune for iOS at the recommendation of a beloved friend who knows me so well it’s ridiculous and a tad scary. In the game, the player has to shear off branches with the swipe of a finger, an action that alters the direction or path of a quickly growing tree. I’m relatively new to playing games on my curmudgeon of a mobile phone. My phone, an ancient model, has endured many hardships in its long and miserable life. It has been dropped, chewed on, and submerged once in a dog’s water dish. The fractures on its screen are more like battle marks than anything.
Between my terrible eyesight and my near constant need to escape, it’s important for me to play on a big enough screen that I can physically see and mentally slip into. I enjoy playing games on iOS, but my screen is small and covered in God knows what (dirt, pixie dust, etc). My phone and I aren’t on the best of terms, but when I’m desperate for a temporary check out, I rely on the damn thing. It goes with me everywhere: the train, the bus, and so on. Prune’s art style is so strikingly gorgeous, with its geometric shapes and bold colors, that a puny screen doesn’t really do it justice.
Despite playing on a small screen, which tends to weaken the immersive factor for me, Prune reminded me of Journey because it had the same soothing effect. The music, though not as grand or epic as the music in Journey, is calming and pleasant but more simplistic. As the player guides the tree into a beam of light, a cluster of flowers blossom on the uncut branches, sometimes in a fast and wildly frenzied manner. The popping of each flower is accompanied by the sound of a koto-like instrument. It’s incredibly satisfying to hear that instrument because it signals the completion of a level. I don’t ever feel rushed or like I need to work at a specific pace. Like Journey, Prune gently encourages me to take my time and just soak in the loveliness. It’s also reminiscent of Flower, a game that focuses on peace and mindfulness. I needed to deeply involve myself in a relaxing game, especially this week.
While my boyfriend was getting his wisdom teeth removed, a common procedure, I was glued to my phone in the waiting room. Though I wasn’t the one in the chair, my anxiety reared its ugly head and had my knees knocking. I was worried about him and afraid of the unknown. Once again, I was inundated by a whirlwind of anxious and obsessive thoughts: What if my boyfriend dies during the procedure? Will he throw up in my car on the drive back? What’s dry socket? Crap! Why the hell did I research dry socket?!
Prune carried me through it all. The puzzles, which were both engaging and complex, helped distract me from myself. Instead of continuing to obsess over things I’m unable to control or passing the time with imagined scenarios (often horrific scenarios), I pruned the hell out of those beautiful trees and smiled as the flower petals drifted skywards and turned into winking stars in the sky. It may seem silly and irrational to worry so much, especially because I wasn’t the one getting my wisdom teeth removed. So why couldn’t I just stop myself? Anxiety can be astronomically difficult to manage and, often times, it feels like it’s its own operating entity. When arriving at the peak of an anxiety attack, the entity takes over and wreaks havoc. It’s a kind of possession in that I’m consciously aware of the irrationality of it, but it’s hard to gain control over my physical self. It’s important to get to a better headspace before my anxiety escalates because it can quickly turn into something more physical.
Personally, I saw the visuals as a metaphor for combating anxiety. Think about it. The purpose of the game is to assist a tree that’s trying to reach sunlight, even if its the slimmest ray of sunlight. Aren’t we all trying to get to a better or happier place? When the branches touch sunlight, there’s an explosion of flowers.
There’s something so wonderfully human about the act of tending to a growing tree or, generally, caring for a living thing. I like the responsibility of it and the love and care I put into it. It’s up to me to get that tree to the sunlight and only I can make it thrive. How cool is that? Like Journey, Prune is connected to nature and that connection in itself is soothing. Prune is a fun puzzle game, but it’s so much more than that. It takes me out of my own head and that is a precious and invaluable thing.
