I remember the first time I fired up Mario vs. Donkey Kong on my Switch after spending weeks immersed in massive open-world games - the contrast couldn't have been more striking. Here I was, holding a console perfectly designed for marathon gaming sessions, yet Nintendo had created something that felt almost rebellious in its retro approach. But that's exactly where the magic of modern gaming lies - in understanding how to transform our experience regardless of a game's design philosophy. Through my years of reviewing games and analyzing player behavior, I've identified five fundamental steps that can elevate any gaming session from ordinary to extraordinary, whether you're diving into brief puzzle-platforming bursts or lengthy narrative adventures.
Let me walk you through what I've come to call the "Game Plus" approach, starting with something we often overlook: intentional session planning. When I played Mario vs. Donkey Kong, I initially tried to approach it like any other Switch title, squeezing it in between longer sessions of other games. It wasn't until I embraced its design that I truly appreciated it. I started scheduling specific 20-30 minute blocks just for this game, treating each session like a coffee break rather than a full meal. The result? Those clever "aha" moments the developers built into each level actually landed with greater impact because my mind was fresh and focused. Research from the University of California suggests our peak attention span for focused tasks maxes out at around 45 minutes anyway, which explains why those short bursts felt so satisfying. For games like Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden, I do the opposite - I block out two-hour chunks because the emotional throughline of that touching love story needs room to breathe.
The second step involves what I call environmental crafting, and no, I'm not talking about building things in Minecraft. I'm referring to how you physically set up your gaming space. When I play story-heavy games like Banishers, I make sure to eliminate distractions - phone on silent, lights dimmed, headphones on. The difference this makes to immersion is staggering. During one particular quiet moment in Banishers where the protagonists simply sit by a campfire discussing their relationship, the atmospheric setup made me feel like I was right there with them, rather than just watching from a distance. Contrast this with my Mario vs. Donkey Kong sessions, which I often play in handheld mode while waiting for appointments or during commute gaps. Each game benefits from a tailored environment, and being intentional about this can transform how you experience them.
Step three might sound obvious, but most players get it wrong: learning to read a game's rhythm rather than forcing your own. I've noticed that many gamers approach every title with the same mindset - they want to beat levels, complete quests, check off boxes. But games communicate their preferred pace if we're willing to listen. Mario vs. Donkey Kong practically demands you take breaks between worlds to let those puzzle solutions marinate in your subconscious. I can't count how many times I've struggled with a level only to solve it effortlessly after stepping away for an hour. Meanwhile, Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden establishes this beautiful push-and-pull between explosive ghost-hunting sequences and quiet character moments. Initially, I found myself rushing through the conversations to get back to the action, until I realized I was missing what made the game special. The developers at Don't Nod placed those tender scenes precisely where they did for emotional resonance - fighting through spectral enemies feels more meaningful when you genuinely care about the relationship you're fighting for.
The fourth transformation involves engagement depth, which goes beyond simply playing the game. I maintain what I call a "gaming journal" - nothing fancy, just quick notes about my reactions, discoveries, and thoughts. When playing Banishers, I found myself jotting down predictions about how my choices would affect the narrative, then revisiting those notes later to see how accurate I'd been. This simple practice deepened my connection to the game's themes of sacrifice and consequence. For Mario vs. Donkey Kong, my notes were more mechanical - which puzzle mechanics stumped me, which solutions felt particularly elegant. This metacognition, this thinking about my thinking, has consistently enhanced my appreciation for game design while making me a more observant player.
Finally, the fifth step concerns community integration, but with a specific twist. I'm not suggesting you need to join every Discord server or subreddit for games you play. Rather, I've found tremendous value in finding just one or two people who are playing the same game and having focused conversations. When I discovered a friend was also playing Banishers, we made a pact to avoid spoilers but discuss the emotional weight of our choices. Hearing how his romantic decisions diverged from mine added layers to my own experience that I wouldn't have accessed alone. With Mario vs. Donkey Kong, I joined a challenge group where we'd share our completion times for specific levels - the friendly competition pushed me to find more efficient solutions than I would have discovered solo.
What's fascinating is how these five steps transformed my experience with both games, despite their vastly different designs. Mario vs. Donkey Kong went from being a casual time-filler to an engaging mental exercise that I looked forward to daily. Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden evolved from another action-RPG into one of my most memorable gaming experiences this year, its love story lingering in my thoughts long after the credits rolled. The truth I've discovered after implementing this Game Plus approach across dozens of titles is that the transformation isn't really about the games themselves - it's about how we choose to show up for them. The most sophisticated graphics, the most innovative mechanics, the most heartfelt stories - they can only meet us as deeply as we're prepared to meet them. And in an era where our gaming libraries often resemble Netflix queues more than curated collections, learning to engage deeply rather than consume broadly might be the most revolutionary gaming skill we can develop.