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The harvest-bots have a mechanical problem.
"You're both off today. We have to wait until the mechanic gets here. That will take time",
says Marhta to them, turns on the spot and walks with heavy steps to her lounger to lie down on it.
Palda jumps in the air.
"You know what, Bodhi? I will go and play some drums."
And Palda disappears faster than a shooting star in the night sky.
Bodhilama sits down at his favourite spot by the river. This was the perfect place to think. His test run with the hammer had not worked. Too much force leads to too much stress, as his test run had shown. Now he has to think about how he can trick and outwit the system.
"But how?"
The sun is reflected on the surface of the river. Bodhilama's gaze wanders over the trees and grasses, over the sunflowers of field B89. It is ready to be harvested. He simply observes the scenery, the movement of the birds, the treetops blowing in the wind, water that is still and yet constantly in motion, formless. There is his chest, rising and falling, up and down. And there he is himself. Everything seems so peaceful, so still, so calm. The moment he becomes this stillness, a flash of genius comes into his head like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly he knows what he has to do.
"It is the only way. "
He needs to create a connection to the higher levels. Part of his consciousness is already deleting. That is why he gets so dizzy and can not fully remember how he got here. This sunflower field B89, they are harvesting it since the last seven days. That means they are already taking over his brain. He needs to fight back. The only way on how to do that, is to write affirmations.
"I am real, not a captive in a cave. I walk freely & I chose to be here."
"I choose to break trough, even though challenges will arise.
With Gratitude & Patience I shall embrace them & transform them into adventures
guiding me on the quest to who I am."
"Companions I hug & love, being supportive and a friend.
In danger, I stand by their side, no matter what."
"Even though my basked is running empty,
I manifest abundance in my own & in the lives of the ones around me."
"I am grateful for,
the ones which follow me like shadows, eve though they don't want anything good for me
as well as my for my own shadows, which I transform into the highest Siddhis."
After putting the pen aside, his gaze wanders over the small pieces of paper stripes, he has written his affirmations on. He takes a deep bow and ignited them. With his eyes closed, he begins to chant.
Bodhilama
chants.
These are the Letters of Bodhilama, a guy who lives in a time of transformation.
A guy who felt the urge to write, because nothing else made any sense.
A guy who is a student, teacher & creator of (wild)Planet108.
A solar punk finding his way on the game's journey of life.
Subscribe to become part of the stories he tells.
Subscribe to learn his insights he holds.
Subscribe to be part of it.
Just.
This Text was written, only with the mind & hands of one human being.
Only for refinement DeepL was consulted.
The artworks are made by openArt.
©️ All rights reserved to Bodhilama
The harvest-bots have a mechanical problem.
"You're both off today. We have to wait until the mechanic gets here. That will take time",
says Marhta to them, turns on the spot and walks with heavy steps to her lounger to lie down on it.
Palda jumps in the air.
"You know what, Bodhi? I will go and play some drums."
And Palda disappears faster than a shooting star in the night sky.
Bodhilama sits down at his favourite spot by the river. This was the perfect place to think. His test run with the hammer had not worked. Too much force leads to too much stress, as his test run had shown. Now he has to think about how he can trick and outwit the system.
"But how?"
The sun is reflected on the surface of the river. Bodhilama's gaze wanders over the trees and grasses, over the sunflowers of field B89. It is ready to be harvested. He simply observes the scenery, the movement of the birds, the treetops blowing in the wind, water that is still and yet constantly in motion, formless. There is his chest, rising and falling, up and down. And there he is himself. Everything seems so peaceful, so still, so calm. The moment he becomes this stillness, a flash of genius comes into his head like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly he knows what he has to do.
"It is the only way. "
He needs to create a connection to the higher levels. Part of his consciousness is already deleting. That is why he gets so dizzy and can not fully remember how he got here. This sunflower field B89, they are harvesting it since the last seven days. That means they are already taking over his brain. He needs to fight back. The only way on how to do that, is to write affirmations.
"I am real, not a captive in a cave. I walk freely & I chose to be here."
"I choose to break trough, even though challenges will arise.
With Gratitude & Patience I shall embrace them & transform them into adventures
guiding me on the quest to who I am."
"Companions I hug & love, being supportive and a friend.
In danger, I stand by their side, no matter what."
"Even though my basked is running empty,
I manifest abundance in my own & in the lives of the ones around me."
"I am grateful for,
the ones which follow me like shadows, eve though they don't want anything good for me
as well as my for my own shadows, which I transform into the highest Siddhis."
After putting the pen aside, his gaze wanders over the small pieces of paper stripes, he has written his affirmations on. He takes a deep bow and ignited them. With his eyes closed, he begins to chant.
Bodhilama
chants.
These are the Letters of Bodhilama, a guy who lives in a time of transformation.
A guy who felt the urge to write, because nothing else made any sense.
A guy who is a student, teacher & creator of (wild)Planet108.
A solar punk finding his way on the game's journey of life.
Subscribe to become part of the stories he tells.
Subscribe to learn his insights he holds.
Subscribe to be part of it.
Just.
This Text was written, only with the mind & hands of one human being.
Only for refinement DeepL was consulted.
The artworks are made by openArt.
©️ All rights reserved to Bodhilama
3 comments
This week I tried something new. Normally I write my /firstdraft in my journal & then copy it on Paragraph. This time I typed my first draft on my mobile phone. A completely different quality. It is much more structured and easier to copy. But the text feels more mechanical. I've watched myself writing a sentence and then skip ahead because I had an idea of where the story was going in the text, which led to a gap that I needed to fill later. And I started to format it already, which distracted me from the a actual story. Later I felt stuck. I didn't know what to write, how to continue. This took several days. Suddenly there was too much structure that was preventing me from writing. Then I sat down with my diary on Sunday evening and wrote a new text with my pen. I'm happier with the result. It feels more flowy, even if it might not make full sense and is shorter. The phone was limiting my creativity, whereas writing by hand just lets it flow. https://paragraph.xyz/@bodhilama/30
Love the meta-writing here! I also find writing on my phone is efficient but less fulfilling than doing it by hand or on a computer
Thank you! It’s funny how something as simple as the medium can change the whole experience of writing. I wonder if it’s about the rhythm like, writing by hand slows you down, but maybe that slowness is where the magic happens.