Sometimes it’s good to have a digital place where I can just jump start the process of writing.
In my case, it’s an obsidian note called:
It comes in handy in times like today, when after a longish break from consistent writing, I want to come back to it being a daily habit.
Building habits it’s simple but not easy.
Fortunately, I have very good (and urgent) motivation, manifested as tupperware boxes overflowing with cards full of community-generated ideas which I just compiled into multiple decks.
I love deckbuilding. It takes me back to the wonderful times browsing through Magic the Gathering cards and imagining possibilities ad infinitum.
But now, instead of duelling against another wizard with the objective to take his lives down to zero by causing mischief, I am creating games, resources, and stories with a deep heart’s desire to accelerate the process of planetary regeneration.
It might be a futile mission, but also - the only one that makes sense for me right now.
Notwithstanding, I’ve met a wonderful tribe of dreamers who share this path with me, each in their own unique way - and I like creating together with them. They make me laugh, and it feels good to be in a place where laughter is the official language.
So, with a sudden flare of creativity, I went to the Cabinete de Transformation, put on a flamboyant outfit, and proclaimed myself an artist.
After all, it was the Abela Artfaire - a regenerative faire where everyone is an artist.
The pic is from a different occasion at TDF, but you get the vibes.
The rest, so they say, is history, and a good one for that, but I’ll not tell it here (although, since this is a digital playground, I’ll leave [this space] to provide a link which perhaps will take you to that other story some time. But not today.)
For now, let’s rewind into the future, which happens to be my current state of present, with a quick recap:
- Soooo many carrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrds
- Each of them containing concepts that weave together beautifully into decks
- Decks are games, articles, books, meta reflections, illustrations, quotes and other spells, ready to be casted
- The most important lesson I’ve learned recently (drumroll) is to ask. Ask for help. Ask precisely for what you need, which 1) helps to clarify what is needed 2) makes it easy for people around me to provide the best help they can, which often tends to be precisely what I need, or something even better.
Co-creation is magic.
I’m experimenting with two containers for co-creation, focusing on regenerative games and how community-generated non-digital art and self-expression can be a form of healing and deepening interpersonal relationships.
After all, emotional maturity and wellbeing, are a critical aspect of any co-living arrangement.
Learning requires practice, and games are a wonderful container for that. Games are fun. Fun is essential. All work and no fun makes Jack a dull boy.
I don’t want to be dull.
Games are not only about play, though.
They open possibilities to co-create in a safe container. A container can be designed to roll dice and divide and conquer, or to reimagine and collaborate.
I lean towards that second option.
And the best part is that when playing with(in) this containers, I feel like the right person in the right place at the right time.
According to one of my teachers, it’s a solid combo. I feel he has a point.
The key for me (and that’s another very powerful self-reflective insight) is to ask precisely for what I need, and create containers - for others and for myself - to create together.
Containers for Regenerative Co-creation
Let’s coin that one ⤴.
This note in obsidian is one of these containers.
I came here because I felt like writing something, but I felt too much resistance to work on anything specific. To be more accurate - the feeling was some kind of a fantastic cocktail based on lack of practice stirred with decision paralysis and performance anxiety, topped up with a hint of counterproductive perfectionism.
Gulp, gulp. I’m fucked.
That’s why this note exists.
It’s a note with simple instructions, typed in bold colourful letters in order to grab my attention and encourage me to jump over the hoop of inaction - immediately and without thinking.
I guess what I wrote here is a good testimonial for its’ functioning.
But the pure magic happens of course, when it’s not just me creating.
The cards, the games are roots of the moments shared when playing together in a physical space without digital mediation. Being together in a creative space. Creating instead of consuming. Playing.
These moment feel hearts with joy and reignite the spark that keeps the inextinguishable fire of playful creativity going.
We are regenerating ourselves and regenerating the world.