This article resonated with me a lot and had me reflecting on my journey writing komorebi.
I started writing komorebi because I had recently migrated to Windows and was really struggling without a tiling window manager. I didn't know anything about Win32 APIs when I started, or much about Rust either, actually.
Fast forward to today, and komorebi is sitting at 35k downloads, supported by a huge Discord server, a vibrant community, and hundreds of people watching me develop it on YouTube.
I created some incredibly important and impactful systems at $dayjob some years before I started komorebi. It was at a real low point in my life where I was struggling with depression, and I still _feel_ that when I look at the codebases and interact with those systems today. I wonder if others do, too. In some ways, I'm glad that those codebases and those systems are not public for others to see for that reason.
I am however, very glad that komorebi is out for the public to see, because I built it in a place of joy, hope and serenity, and I believe that those feelings are there to be seen in both the codebase and the product.
I really like your interpretation of psychology on resultant codebases. Personally, I have very mild bipolar-like tendencies, and I find that I don't really get much done except in my "manic" phases. If I'm feeling more charitable to myself I call it an explore/exploit loop. I consider it one of life's many seasons, and don't mind the oscillations too much.
However, while I've read serene code, my own code often reads as "manic" in my own estimation.
I haven't found the state of mind where I would even attempt serene code: when I'm at peace, writing code seems like a waste of time when there's trees and bubbling waters outside, and good friends and family to share gentle laughs with. I genuinely enjoy coding, but I would like it if I could find that serene mental space that also afforded productivity.
Oh that's interesting! I've been experiencing a similar thing recently. If I'm satisfied with life, there's not much drive to code, it feels like it's just going to disturb my peace.
But when I'm feeling like stuff just isn't good enough and something must be done, "doing something" means writing code, either until I'm satisfied or until I'm tired. Sometimes the codebases in my day job don't satisfy, so I contribute to open source instead, as that feels more impactful and permanent.
I wonder how many projects came into existence just because someone was unhappy with the way things were and the only thing they could do that felt impactful was programming.
I think what you have experienced is very real. Code (and most forms of expression) are a way to externalize your state of mind.
I've seen it with my own emotional states but also with coworkers when they are going trough a rough time.
This is also why it is difficult to understand others ppl code. And it gets easier as you build a relation/get to know them better. The better you know someone, the easier and faster you can understand their code.
I feel like that is why coding standards, code reviews etc make a codebase more maintainable. You strip the code emotions away or at least reset it to a common level across the team.
One reason why I went 100% Linux was because I couldn't find a window manager equivalent elsewhere that was anywhere close to i3. And yours, to me, looks competitive with i3.
The window manager has been the one killer feature that was just not available at the same level on MacOS or Windows. It's nice to see that changing.
I started writing komorebi because I had recently migrated to Windows and was really struggling without a tiling window manager. I didn't know anything about Win32 APIs when I started, or much about Rust either, actually.
Fast forward to today, and komorebi is sitting at 35k downloads, supported by a huge Discord server, a vibrant community, and hundreds of people watching me develop it on YouTube.
I created some incredibly important and impactful systems at $dayjob some years before I started komorebi. It was at a real low point in my life where I was struggling with depression, and I still _feel_ that when I look at the codebases and interact with those systems today. I wonder if others do, too. In some ways, I'm glad that those codebases and those systems are not public for others to see for that reason.
I am however, very glad that komorebi is out for the public to see, because I built it in a place of joy, hope and serenity, and I believe that those feelings are there to be seen in both the codebase and the product.