Life has been filled with twists and turns lately. Mostly of my own making, but twists and turns abound. It’s enough instability and change to make me feel unmoored. 

Unmoored adjective

(of a vessel) not or no longer attached to a mooring: an unmoored barge.

(of a person) insecure, confused, or lacking contact with reality: this freedom can make people feel unmoored | an unmoored ex-socialite.

How often do you incorporate the word mooring into your lexicon? With the ease that it just flowed out of me, one would think this is a typical phrase I’m casually using all the time. 

“Vaimo, is the boat at its mooring?” 

“Yes, Dear.” 

Just kidding, that has truly never happened at the ChicFinn. I kind of want to know the origin of this phrase, feels like something the English would say. But then again, maybe it’s Germanic? Who knows?

All that I do know is that right now, I don’t have the energy to research it. 

Upon editing and revisiting - after a bit of rest - it’s MIDDLE ENGLISH. Called it.

My vessel is no longer attached to my workaholic ways. And this definitely feels like I’m unmooring. 

But also, look at the second definition. I love it when something in the world that started out to mean something gets so transfigured that the metaphor someone once (usually wrote) somewhere becomes how it may also be commonly used. 

My vessel is out in uncharted waters, but maybe this is the way it is supposed to be if one is alive.

I had a challenge last week that was too familiar for me. A slip back into the old ways. I’ll stay vague purposefully but know that I was lacking contact with reality in the sense of the stress that was ramping up was beginning to reshape my ability to safely discern all the realities. Or maybe the force of the commitment I extricated myself from (with the support of fam) made me have to navigate too many competing realities.

Either way I was unmoored. 

I’m not completely anchored again, but at least I am in a reality shaped by one fewer competing challenge. 

The cool thing about a mooring is that you can be unhooked (on purpose) and then anchor again. I’m sure a sailor will take issue with my mixing of the terms - but hey, I’m writing about my mooring from the metaphorical angle anyways.

So what does this mean for the art? My painting is a balm for me in these times. I started a painting that makes me want to keep working on it. This is a sign that my energy is moving in the right direction. I shared a peek of it for my Ko-Fi supporters earlier today.

The painting is not yet ready for the main stage. Like me, it’s in a state of becoming.

Even with the painting moving again, I must admit I am also still finding myself in a land of so many things I want to do, and such limited energy to actually do it. 

I’m trying to be ok with this. Daily affirmations where I state my intention and revisit it daily. Be present. Be positive. Notice pleasure. Seek joy. 

When I pay attention to these hopes for my day I feel like I’m tying my boat to something. Hanging on, even with just the simplest of knots. I’m hanging in.

What I’m learning about myself right now is that burnout is real. And I’m burnt out. I notice it in gap between my desire to do something and my ability to actually do it. I feel it in the way I have to call on so much of my energy reserve to follow through with the commitments to which I’ve agreed. I am hit with the weight of it at the end of a day when my mind tells me I haven’t even done that much, but my body acts like we ran a marathon… well maybe not that intense, but a 5k at least. 

Ok, to avoid the risk of just rambling to ramble - or to add more words into the world that don’t need to be spoken/written I am going to sign off.

I’m doing ok, I’m doing ok, I’m doing ok…

I’m hanging on, I’m hanging in.

You?