March to the Sea

I often times have 'these' nights, ones where the clock has ticked over midnight into the next day, and I'm still sitting awake with all the lights off, trying to figure out what the fuck I am going to do tomorrow. It's funny how once a day has officially punched the clock on being over, you can look forward with such optimism how the next day will be different. It just has to be different. Something needs to change in order for you to be able to crawl back into your own skin to manage to fall asleep.

"Tomorrow is going to be the day I go back to the gym. I am going to hit it hard, get into good shape so come halloween or the next con, I can be a truly sexy beast." Or maybe it's: "Tomorrow I am going to finally get that thing done around the house. I'll clean up that room and turn it into an office, set up a space where I can write for 4 hours at a time, record a podcast and make web videos again.". These are obviously examples of the places my mind goes at the end of the night, but I am sure you have your own places that you go to.

Then tomorrow you wake up and go about your routine, remembering the promises you made the night before, and apologizing to yourself for not upholding them. "Sorry me, got a late start on the day. We'll pick up on all those new leafs tomorrow, sound good?". You can go a lot of years having that conversation every morning, and even on the day when you get severely slapped in the face by how much time has passed, it doesn't make it any easier to change the routine.

We are all in this funk. Even if you are the type to kiss the sunrise good morning and go for a run, there is somewhere in your life that you want to improve yet the will just won't come. I have this mental image for it, and have tried to write it all out poetically, but it didn't make much sense. I'll give it another shot, maybe with a glass of Sake at my side it will come easier.

Picture an ocean, a big blue wide open ocean. You are in this ocean, bobbing below the surface is you, fighting to swim but being pulled further down by your struggle. Your lungs burn as they are filled with salt water, and the light filtering through the surface in it's twisted, undulating fashion is growing fainter. The water gets colder as you sink deeper, and you feel the great maw of being truly alone. The thing is, if you were able to fly up above the water, you would be able to see that there are others thrashing amongst the tide almost right next to you. They are just far enough away that you can't see them through the darkness. You would also be able to see there is a group of people on the surface, huddled together, keeping themselves afloat by clutching onto whatever debris they could find. This group of survivors isn't swimming for shore though, they are searching the water for more survivors, piecing together their bits of debris to form a life boat for those who can manage to get their head above water for just a moment. And when you get to the surface, you will join them in their mission of mercy.

If you have yet to be saved by this search party of those who are also lost at sea, it is easy to give up hope that they exist. They are there, and they will find you. The hard part is finding something to grab onto to keep your head above water. That's all it is though, keeping your head above water. That effort to save yourself is enough for them to see you, for them to help you. But you have to try, the first push has to come from you.

The storm never stops. There are some calm days, but ultimately we are all floating together. It's not as scary as it sounds though. At least you know, at least you understand what to expect. Nothing comes easy in this world, and when it does its a gift and should be treated as one. So if you feel like they are being thrashed by the waves, pick one of those things you think about before you go to bed, and wake up and fucking do it. Just start the process, do it in earnest, then take it one day at a time.