Technique, Art, Dao
The other night, playing Overwatch, the enemy Pharah lifted into the sky and I swapped to Soldier before I noticed I was swapping. The crosshair found her, she dropped, and the round kept going. It was only later, watching the replay, that I realized I had not consciously thought through the switch. I had recognized what was happening and responded.
I remember when that was impossible. In the first weeks I was reading ability tooltips between deaths, trying to remember what each button did. Then, for a long stretch, I was counter-picking: watching the other team’s composition, swapping heroes, and thinking through the matchups. I had to work out responses that now sometimes come without much conscious effort.
Technique, art, and dao are the three terms I use to think about this change. By technique I mean learning how to do something. Art begins with judgment about when and how to use it. Dao is the harder one to describe: the moments when I can respond without rehearsing the steps. I use these as a way to describe the experience, not as stages everyone must pass through.
I used to think that last part had to be mystical. In a game, it can feel quite ordinary. I spend less time thinking about the controls and more time noticing what is happening in the match. That does not mean the response is always right; being able to act without hesitation is not the same as having nothing left to learn.
The smaller mistakes still show up when I watch a replay: a half-second I gave away, a corner I should have held. They are harder to notice while I am playing. Reviewing them gives me something specific to work on, even when the controls have long since become familiar.