A few years ago, when I learned what a Zettelkasten is, I started playing with an application named Obsidian. I’m a nerd, so naturally it was addictive. Back then I had ambitions for using it to ease producing low-key meditations like this one, but soon realized Obsidian was the proverbial sledgehammer for this kind of fly.

My objectives changed while using it: clarifying my world view seemed like a more appropriate use.

Obsidian is fast, functional, configurable, and designed without an imposing process method. Using it for the first time is like opening an empty notebook. It is an electronic blank page waiting for your definition. For that reason, it can be overwhelming. Creating a few notes made me realize I should come up with a framework because how will I track all those notes? At the time, years worth of writing meant my collection was already 1000+ files. I had to do something.

That was three years ago.

If you use Obsidian, you understand my dilemma. Maybe, like me, you know CSS and play with its interface, constantly try new themes or fix small UI bits that don’t serve you, or work through an organizational scheme so you can find shit… and then write the other 15% of the time. And of that fraction, 40% or more is about working on Obsidian, or some other form of low-key self-loathing for not writing more “real stuff,” whatever that is. At least that’s my experience. But, I’ve come to a certain equalibrium in my relationship with using the tool and I love it.

(Yes, there is a moral in here somewhere.)

Nowadays writing is way more than 50% of my work in my library, and most of that is a constant brain dump, journaling I guess you’d call it. I still play a lot more than I like. The old me would not be pleased.

But I realized a while back that, even though much of my time spent “working” in that library is a neo-proverbial rabbit hole-level waste of energy, as little as it truly is the actual thinking time is invaluable. Not only does it produce results that stick with me, but I look forward to those brief moments when my brain makes an enlightening connection or a new idea. Besides, who am I to suppose one moment is more valuable than another — so it doesn’t matter if a 10 second ephiphany arrives during a 3 hour interaction. I’m good with that ratio.

And now that I’ve made this entry, I can go back to deciding whether dark grey is better than black text….