Mindfulness in Medieval Bohemia: Putting Therapy Skills to Work in a Game
I've never been good at being a beginner. I often hold myself to the unrealistic standard that I should inherently know the “right” way to do things, as if expertise should emerge fully formed rather than through the slow and sometimes messy process of learning. This perfectionism has been both a driving force and a persistent challenge in my life, particularly as I navigate the parallel journeys of personal therapy and graduate studies in professional counseling.
As an autistic person, I often find myself struggling to synthesize abstract concepts without tangible, lived experience. Traditional learning environments can feel disconnected from reality—or at least my reality—making it challenging to bridge the gap between theoretical understanding and practical application. This is particularly true in my personal therapy work, where psychoeducation and emotional nuances play such a pivotal role.
It's in this context that Kingdom Come: Deliverance entered my life - a historically-grounded RPG that has become more than just a game. It's evolved into an impactful teacher of patience, self-compassion, and a genuine journey of growth. For someone who habitually holds themselves to unrealistic standards and needs experiential learning opportunities, the game provides a unique space to practice, fail, and grow without real-world consequences.
The Sacred Practice of Starting From Zero
Kingdom Come: Deliverance begins with a radical premise in gaming: your character, Henry, starts with absolutely no skills. He can barely hold a sword, is illiterate, and lacks the social graces needed for nuanced interactions. For someone like me, who often resists the vulnerability of not knowing, controlling Henry as he fumbles through basic tasks has become a gentle reminder that expertise isn't a starting point - it's a destination reached through countless moments of practice, failure, and beginning again.
The game's detailed systems provide concrete, experiential ways to understand abstract concepts. Each conversation becomes a practical lesson in reading social cues, each combat encounter a tangible exercise in emotional regulation and the necessity of careful pacing and planning. These experiences, while virtual, create neural pathways and embodied understanding that theoretical learning alone cannot provide.
The Gift of Limited Saves
The game's controversial save system, which restricts when and how often you can record progress, initially felt frustrating. Now I recognize it as one of the game's most profound teachings. Unlike most modern games that let you reload repeatedly until you achieve a "perfect" outcome, Kingdom Come: Deliverance asks us to live with our choices and their consequences - just as we must in real life.
This limitation has become a powerful tool for practicing what meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg calls "beginning again" - the gentle art of starting fresh from exactly where we are, without the illusion of perfection. When Henry fails in combat or fumbles a crucial conversation, the game doesn't offer an easy reset. Instead, it invites us to breathe, acknowledge what happened, and continue forward from this new place - a skill that proves invaluable both in personal therapy and professional practice in my graduate studies as a professional counseling student.
Finding Your Path Through Patient Exploration
The game resists the average player’s tendency to rush through content to reach an endpoint. Instead, it rewards careful exploration, experimentation, and the willingness to find approaches that align with your individual needs and capabilities. Some players might excel at stealth and persuasion, while others develop prowess in direct combat - much like how each person's therapeutic journey and professional development follow unique paths.
This variety of viable approaches reflects a sometimes-hard truth about both therapy and counselor development: there is no single "right way" to heal or grow. What matters is finding methods that resonate with our authentic selves and committing to practicing them with patience and self-compassion.
The Practice of Presence in Progress
As Henry gradually develops his skills, the game makes visible what is often invisible in real-life growth: the incremental nature of progress. Each small improvement in swordsmanship, each newly mastered dialogue level, comes through repeated practice and patient attention to detail. Even as Henry grows in his skill, he can easily find himself out of his depth, causing the player to once again restart from right where they are. Try a new method, give themselves some grace, and learn what works best for them instead of clinging to the concept of the “right” way.
Embracing Imperfection as a Path
The game's systems actively discourage perfectionism. Failed attempts aren't just inevitable; they're essential to the learning process. This philosophy aligns beautifully with therapeutic principles:
Every "failure" is an opportunity to practice self-compassion
Growth happens through engagement with difficulty, not avoidance of it
The journey itself, with all its messiness, is where the real learning and growth occurs
Learning Through Lived Experience
As an autistic counseling student, I've found that the game's immersive environment offers unique opportunities to practice and internalize complex interpersonal skills:
Embodied Learning
Where traditional education (and psychoeducation) might present abstract concepts about emotional regulation or social dynamics, the game provides immediate, concrete feedback. Every interaction becomes a safe space to experiment with different approaches and learn from the outcomes.
Pattern Recognition
The game's systematic nature aligns well with how my autistic brain processes information. Just as I can learn to recognize patterns in combat movements or NPC behaviors, I'm developing the ability to notice patterns in therapeutic interactions and emotional expressions.
Safe Experimentation
The virtual environment allows me to practice new skills and approaches without the anxiety of real-world consequences. This freedom to experiment has been invaluable in developing confidence and competence in both personal and professional growth.
Professional Integration and Personal Growth
As a counseling student, I've found that this experience in Kingdom Come: Deliverance enriches my understanding of both personal therapeutic work and professional development:
Therapeutic Presence
The game demands full attention to the present moment - whether in combat, conversation, or exploration. This same quality of presence is essential in therapeutic work, where being fully available to the client's experience creates the foundation for healing.
Skill Integration
Just as Henry must learn to combine different combat techniques fluidly through practice and pacing, therapeutic work requires the smooth integration of various skills - empathy, active listening, theoretical understanding, and practical interventions.
The Courage to Begin Again
Perhaps the most valuable lesson comes from the game's core message: growth requires the courage to begin again, exactly where we are. When Henry fails in combat or mishandles a social interaction, the game doesn't offer an escape through constant reloading. Instead, it invites us to breathe, acknowledge what happened, and continue forward. For someone who has long struggled with the perfectionist urge to "get it right the first time," this has become a powerful metaphor for both personal therapeutic work and professional development, particularly as I’m on my own path of beginning again after losing my job twice over the course of ten months.
As I continue both my therapeutic journey and counseling education, Kingdom Come: Deliverance serves as a reminder that meaningful growth requires patience, presence, and the willingness to start fresh in each moment. Whether practicing therapeutic techniques, developing personal emotional regulation skills, or learning medieval swordsmanship, the path forward is through embracing imperfection and committing to patient, persistent practice.
