While Waiting

“To be is to do,” Socrates mused, but what of the moments between our actions? These pauses, often overlooked, hold a universe of potential. While Waiting, Optillusion’s puzzle game is entering early access with a slate of updates, including DualSense support and Steam Deck verification, inviting us to explore this quiet realm through 100 vignettes spanning birth to death. Like Thank Goodness You’re Here!’s anarchic British slapstick comedy, it finds poetry in the mundane—not through chaotic interactivity, but through the tension between stillness and the human compulsion to act. Having navigated its liminal spaces, I’ve emerged haunted by its paradoxes: a game about waiting that feels urgently necessary in our era of perpetual distraction. 

The game’s deliberate pacing mirrors Buddhist walking meditations—those ancient practices where monks move with slow, mindful steps to counter life’s rush. Time in the game feels elastic, stretching moments into opportunities to notice details we usually overlook. While occasionally frustrating—like a grocery store level where items won’t scan properly—these quirks feel purposefully imperfect, like the intentional flaws in handmade pottery that remind us life isn’t meant to be flawless.

Some of my favourite vignettes from the game include “Wait for the Power to Return,” in which swatting an insect in total darkness becomes existential theatre. As someone who endured South Africa’s humidity and heat, as well as the unending power cuts, I recognised the grim choreography—a mundane act laced with quiet panic. The mosquito isn’t just a pest; it’s a symbolic punchline about our shaky control over nature. The gameplay drives this home: your frantic swipes trigger vibrations in the controller that make the struggle feel real, like batting at shadows in a real blackout. How many players from developing nations see their daily struggles reflected here? The answer hangs in the air like the mosquito’s dying hum. This must be one of the funniest levels I encountered throughout my time with the game.

Then there’s “Wait to Grow Up.” It captures that universal tug-of-war between teenage restlessness and parental nostalgia. Watching my game character—a digital mirror of my real-life teen—stare at a bedroom clock, I recognised her nightly countdown to adulthood. The magic happens when you replay these scenes years later: A sandglass that felt endless at 14. Parenting, the game implies, means rediscovering how to wait through someone else’s impatient eye.

Insomnia gets its due in “Wait to Fall Asleep.” Your racing thoughts appear as floating reminders and activities. However, as you drop off, you’re obsessed with finding your teddy bear. Now you’re scrambling in the dark, hands pixelating with sleep deprivation, hunting for that damned childhood teddy yet again. That bear isn’t just a collectible; it’s the Holy Grail of sleepless nights, a relic from a time when waiting felt finite and solvable. While exaggerated, it mirrors those 3 AM nights we’ve all had.

The narrative continues to unfold in whispers and implications. There’s no grand plot to unravel, no world-ending crisis to avert. Instead, we witness the quiet accumulation of moments that make up a life. A missed connection at a train station, a lingering glance in a café, and the slow fade of a sunset—these are the building blocks of our protagonist’s journey.

The puzzles woven throughout the game vary widely in quality and relevance. Some offer genuine “eureka” moments, cleverly playing with the concept of time and observation. Others feel obtuse or disconnected from the core experience. It’s in the more organic interactions—discovering hidden animations or piecing together unspoken stories—that While Waiting truly shines.

What I found interesting was how the visuals blend everyday scenes with striking contrasts, showcasing the unexpected beauty in ordinary places like rain-streaked bus stops and sterile hospital waiting rooms. The piano score, while thematically apt, grows numbing across 100 levels. I muted the music after a few levels to regain some peace in my mind. Dynamic audio adapting to choices might have alleviated this, but perhaps the repetition is intentional: life’s soundtrack loops too, until we learn to hear new notes.

Spoiler warnings feel almost absurd when discussing While Waiting. This isn’t a game driven by a traditional narrative arc. There are no villains to vanquish, no epic quests to complete, and no grand resolutions awaiting the player. The heart of the experience lies instead in the quiet, interstitial moments—the spaces between the big events that shape our lives. Because of this, delving into the game’s closing moments doesn’t ‘spoil’ a plot twist or character reveal. However, the way Optillusion chooses to present the credits offers such a resonant and thoughtful culmination of the game’s themes, it warrants specific discussion as a final, poignant brushstroke.The end credits are unusual as they scroll in reverse—with memories hung askew on walls like works of art, showcasing graduations and anniversaries. What follows echoes Fitzgerald’s Benjamin Button, as each step through the credits corridor de-ages your avatar, and footprints transform into yellow shimmering developer names beneath your feet. This interactive conclusion inverts traditional credit sequences, as most games memorialise their makers through passive observation, but While Waiting makes you walk the path of its creation. You are retracing steps through your avatar’s life stages to mirror the developers’ journey backward through their creative process—perhaps from final polish to initial concept, though this could be wishful thinking.

Days later, after having completed the game, I find myself embracing the quiet moments in endless meetings, discovering unexpected poetry in the slow shuffle of a supermarket line when only one cashier’s light shines. While Waiting’s true achievement isn’t in puzzles or pixels, but in reshaping perception—an alchemy no patch can replicate. This is not a game for everyone. It demands a certain mindset, a willingness to embrace discomfort and ambiguity. For those willing to meet it on its own terms, however, While Waiting offers a unique and thought-provoking experience. It’s akin to a Japanese zen garden in digital form, inviting us to ponder the nature of time, choice, and the subtle ways we shape our world even when we think we’re doing nothing at all.