A blanket of clouds covered the sky.
Bodhilama only realized today what kind of commitment he had made.
"What the heck was I thinking? Writing every day?
Holy shit! Why did she tell me that?
That is a huge amount of work!"
He doubted himself & was no longer sure about his commitment.
Could he really do it?
What if there was an inspirational vacuum?
What if his creativity became stuck?
What if he was not motivated?
"Well now, I have to do it, I guess.
Now I'm in the public eye. If I can't keep my word, people will judge me."
He hesitated and wrinkled his brow.
"But actually that's just in my head. That is not true.
It's more likely, people struggle with the same like me.
People probably think more about themselves than about others.
And even if they judge, what do I care about the judgement of others?
In the end, I'm doing it all for myself. I just commit to something and try follow it through.
I don't care about the thoughts of others. I don't care if people aren't interested in my writing!"
So, he put out his paper and wrote word after word.
"Maybe, my writings have to follow a specific purpose.
I guess I need some kind of structure.
That way people will understand me better and more likely read what I write.
I mean, I have to stick to some rules and guidelines, I guess."
Bodhilama frowned again.
"Wait..., I just said, I don't care about what others think about me.
And I want to enjoy this process. That's the whole point.
Structuring everything just makes it complicated.
Keep it simple."
And then he remembered what he had written yesterday.
He opened Touching the first step & read it once again.
"Yaah, I've forgotten the framework I set yesterday.
Just no structure, no thinking, just writing.
How could I have forgotten all that already?
Focus, Bodhi, FOCUS!"
He made a serious face as he tapped his left index finger on his forehead.
"Guidelines help to stay focused.
Being kind to myself relieves pressure.
By making it public, I can be accountable.
Keeping it simple keeps the overthinking away.
Having a timer gives perfection no room to spread."
Now he tapped his temple with his index finger.
"Yaah, I'm starting to learn."
He shook his index finger in the air as if he had found the answer
to the ultimate question.
"Writing teaches me something.
Or rather, I'm teaching myself as I write.
It's fascinating. I'm going to observe myself more.
I'm doing well now. I'm feeling good.
I'll leave it here, tomorrow is the next day."
The clouds were gone. The sky was blue.
Peacefully,
Bodhilama
These are the Letters of Bodhilama, a guy who lives in a time of transformation.
A guy who felt the urge to write, because nothing else made any sense.
A guy who is a student, teacher & creator of (wild)Planet108.
A solar punk finding his way on the game's journey of life.
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