Well, the game is not released yet, but I’m happy. I had the strangest day: I put myself to work, wasn’t finding flow, took work to the library, couldn’t find it there either, and I walked backed home dragging my feet. Never had I felt so defeated, and no amount of detachment brought me consolation.

I went directly to bed but I couldn’t sleep. I had a very brief dream:

I was in a cave consorting with the elders about how to proceed, I said “here is what I’m planning to do:”. A voice from outside the cave interrupted “Yeah, what are you going to do?”. I turned my face and screamed “Shut up!”. I couldn’t let go of my anger and I screamed again “I’m going to eat you alive! That’s what I’m going to do!”.

I had lunch and felt sleepy again, but my sleep was very light and restless. Finally I put myself in front of the computer and little by little I gained momentum, entering flow as to lose track of time, and when I thought I could release this as it is, I got up and prepared myself tea, and pondered the situation: it was 11pm, a good hour for release.

The Tao Te Ching came to mind:

Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself? The Master doesn’t seek fulfillment. Not seeking, not expecting, she is present, and can welcome all things.

I went back to the desk and decided I’d continue working until midnight, then I would decide upon the release. When midnight struck, I knew my decision to release it came from a different person who was exasperated with the project. It needs to be released soon, but it doesn’t have to be today. Work never ends, there’s then thousand things that can be improved, so the decision of releasing has to be deliberate, but it should arise from stillness and not from frustration.

From happenstance I came across a quote which resounded with me:

The hardest part about this or any endeavor—finding the  courage to call it out or claiming it as your art—the hardest 
part is that moment in the making when you discover that 
you, the maker, are implicated in your own work; that the 
work reflects on you—the part of you that is hidden 
inside—that you are hiding inside, you hide this inside.   —Truong Tran, from The Book of Others