Unsolving Rubik

When I was 10 years old I learnt to complete Rubik's cube. I was really proud and it was a great trick to show off with my friends. I ended up getting so good that I could finish it from any position in 24 seconds ... not quite world record material, but quite impressive all the same.

Fifteen years ago, in an attack of nostalgia, I bought a new cube at a store in Heathrow airport. The initial enthusiasm quickly giving way to growing frustration, it was not long before the cube rested in a disarray of colours on my study desk. A spot the cube would mysteriously find its way back to with every house move, its shape reaching increasing levels of anarchy with every failed attempt at its solution.

Yesterday, after a few tries and with more than a little help from a Youtube tutorial I faced Rubik once again, this time determined on going all the way, this time ensuring that a colourful harmony would prevail on all of its six sides. As I turned the last row and all cubes aligned, I felt a sense of satisfaction, an Eureka moment rewarded with an explosion of dopamine and a profound sense of happiness.

This morning, as the first cup of coffee takes care of my dopamine needs, my emotions are somewhat more confronted. Sure that it is cool to know how to complete the cube, and it sure is nice to look at as it lies all perfect. But that is exactly the problem, it is just too nice and too perfect and that is not the way it should remain. There is no art to solving the cube, merely a set of predefined moves and algorithms that when carried out properly will always lead to the same conclusion, there is simply no fun and excitement in that. The beauty lies in unsolving Rubik's cube, because only you can decide what your next move will be, and there is no Youtube tutorial for the adventure that you will unleash.