I still remember the first time I saw a golden mahjong tile glow in the midnight haze—no gamble, no rush, just a quiet ritual. As a mixed-blood Chicagoan raised on jazz and street art, I learned that this game isn’t about winning. It’s about the pause between spins, the sound of tiles clicking like rain on an old wooden table. This is healing—not hype. And if you’re listening closely, you’ll find it too.