I’m aware of a giant, ever-shifting cloud of possibility. I like having this cloud nearby, as it is the host of all experiences that I excitedly anticipate. Many of my own dreams and desires live in this cloud, too.
On the other hand, the cloud of possibility is so massive that it tends to overshadow reality. Reality, unlike the world of dreams, takes time and resources to change. Moving an idea from the cloud of possibility to the real world takes a huge amount of energy compared to the ease of just dreaming about it.
Learning to cope with that disparity of effort is a major part of my struggle to be productive. What might be helpful is some way to definitively measure what’s getting done, and letting the pile of real things create its OWN world of possibility from what’s there.
By example, the dream world allows us to imagine what we can eat based on any criteria whatsoever. We can imagine delicious foods prepared using exotic techniques we’ve read about, prepared with unworldly skill in exotic locations. It’s fun, right up to the point where you decide to try to do it.
The real world, by comparison, attaches a statistical likelihood of success plus a cost to every dream. It’s easy to rack up a huge time and resources bill when in the dream world, because you can pay with dream money. In the real world, it’s easy to get stuck on just the first step.
Then there are the possibilities that come not from dreams, but from what you have. If you have two eggs and a skillet, the possibilities pretty much point to some kind of fried egg dish. If you find some cheese and maybe some mushrooms, then omelets are starting are looking likely. However, just because the omelets are arising out of what’s right in front of us, that doesn’t mean it is any less exciting if you know how to look at the situation. You can make phenomenal eggs and strive for perfect prepared omelets.
Learning to anchor myself to the possibilities offered by the real world, but using the dream world to help guide me toward new capabilities to develop, might be the way to go. It might result in less feelings of inadequacy, if I accept this. It’s a form of designing within constraints.
Combining this with the recognition that making progress in the real world is orders of magnitude slower, especially along difficult paths that few have traveled, may help. Using a recipe-based approach to generate quick-and-dirty assets might help maintain a sense of progress.
I should review the game work. How to organize it?