What if video games became a form of therapy?

For a long time, video games were seen as mere distractions — or worse, as sources of violence, isolation, and addiction. But a different kind of game is emerging, one that is softer, more compassionate, and introspective. These are the poetic, contemplative, or relaxing games. Titles that go against the grain of loud, aggressive blockbusters, focusing instead on atmosphere, emotion, and inner escape. What if these games were actually a new kind of silent therapy, accessible to everyone?

In an increasingly stressful world, where anxiety, mental overload, and depression affect millions, many are looking for gentle ways to find balance. Relaxing games, with their slow pace, artistic direction, and simple mechanics, offer exactly that. Playing Journey, Gris, Abzû, Spiritfarer or Flower means allowing yourself to slow down, to marvel, to feel — without pressure to perform or compete.

These interactive experiences don’t aim to make your heart race. On the contrary, they invite you to listen to peaceful music, explore dreamlike landscapes, observe nature, or experience subtle and emotional storytelling. Some of these games don’t even include dialogue. Everything is conveyed through sound, visuals, and sensation. And that changes everything. You’re not playing to win. You’re playing to reconnect.

The benefits for mental health are increasingly recognized. Several studies are now looking into these games as tools for relaxation, stress management, or emotional support. A 2021 study published in JMIR Mental Health showed that certain calming games can measurably reduce cortisol levels in regular players. Other research highlights the meditative effect of repetitive and fluid gameplay. Planting flowers, building a small world, or floating in virtual water can become soothing rituals, much like coloring or breathing exercises.

In comparison, war games, survival games, or violent shooters often put players in a state of high alert, stress, and constant tension. While some may find them cathartic, prolonged exposure rarely promotes mental rest. Instead, they tend to extend the overstimulation already present in real life — noise, pressure, competition, conflict. Over time, this can exhaust the brain and amplify internal restlessness.

What makes poetic games different is their desire to care for the player. They don’t judge. They don’t test. They welcome. The very idea of entering a world that asks nothing of you, that doesn’t punish or rush you, can bring deep relief. These games become emotional sanctuaries. Little islands of calm in a noisy world.

Of course, everything depends on how you play. The key is intention. If we approach these games as tools for mindfulness, as moments to ourselves, without guilt, they can truly have a therapeutic effect. And this doesn’t mean you have to give up all other types of games. But it’s important to recognize that balance is possible. That gaming is not just about shooting, running, or winning.

More and more indie studios are developing these poetic experiences. It’s a true alternative scene in the gaming world, driven by artists, musicians, and storytellers. They explore themes like grief, love, loneliness, nature, and spirituality. They offer something different — a space where you can cry, dream, or simply breathe.

For some players, these games become like a digital diary. You revisit them as you might reread a favorite letter, or sit quietly on a bench to watch the clouds drift by. It’s a private relationship, often invisible to others. But incredibly meaningful.

So why not imagine these games being used in care protocols, or recommended by therapists, just like music, walking, or meditation? Some hospitals and mental health centers are already exploring this idea. Because yes, it is possible to feel better through play. To heal, a little, through the beauty and emotion of a gentle virtual world.

In the end, video games are not the problem. They’re a language. And like any language, they can be used to shout or insult, or to soothe and comfort. It’s up to us to choose the words we want to hear — and the worlds we want to step into, even just for a moment. Sometimes, just floating in the ocean of Abzû, flying over petals in Flower, or walking in the glowing desert of Journey is enough to help us breathe again.