| This article resonated with me a lot and had me reflecting on my journey writing komorebi. I started writing komorebi because I had recently migrated to Windows and was really struggling without a tiling window manager. I didn't know anything about Win32 APIs when I started, or much about Rust either, actually. Fast forward to today, and komorebi is sitting at 35k downloads, supported by a huge Discord server, a vibrant community, and hundreds of people watching me develop it on YouTube. I created some incredibly important and impactful systems at $dayjob some years before I started komorebi. It was at a real low point in my life where I was struggling with depression, and I still _feel_ that when I look at the codebases and interact with those systems today. I wonder if others do, too. In some ways, I'm glad that those codebases and those systems are not public for others to see for that reason. I am however, very glad that komorebi is out for the public to see, because I built it in a place of joy, hope and serenity, and I believe that those feelings are there to be seen in both the codebase and the product. |
However, while I've read serene code, my own code often reads as "manic" in my own estimation.
I haven't found the state of mind where I would even attempt serene code: when I'm at peace, writing code seems like a waste of time when there's trees and bubbling waters outside, and good friends and family to share gentle laughs with. I genuinely enjoy coding, but I would like it if I could find that serene mental space that also afforded productivity.