I can’t imagine anything more terrifying than being on a boat in a storm and being swept overboard. That intense rush of complete lack of control, being picked up and removed from any kind of safety by something huge and unstoppable and deadly and violent and unpredictable.
And yet, that’s how I feel almost every day of my life.
Admittedly, I think I’m more scared of the actual boat scenario because I get horrendously sea sick and so I’d already feel terrible during a storm on a boat, without even beginning to worry about getting swept away.
Recently, a lot of things have gone on. I’ve made big life decisions, big life events have happened around me, and the entire world seems to have stepped it up to gears I don’t really feel like I have. It’s all gone a bit overboard, and I’m being carried along with it, not really in control of anything. Every now and then I surface and grab a breath and feel the air on my face and everything looks sunny and beautiful and then back down I go, dragged under by some undercurrent I didn’t even know I should be trying to avoid.
It’s not just life that has gone overboard either. I’ve gone overboard. I’ve taken on many things, and thrown myself into them in a way that while fantastic and enjoyable, isn’t necessarily what most people would describe as “healthy” or “sane”. But then who am I to conform to your cultural norms anyway?
So here we are now, floating about in a completely uncertain sea. I’m currently clinging onto various life rafts, which are propping me up ever so effectively. As always, sometimes one of them seems to slip through my fingers and I have a moment of uncertainty where I feel like I’m going under. But recently, that seems to be happening less, and gradually I’m learning to judge the waves and weather the storm. It’s all moving decisively in the direction of a calm sea and a hint of a rainbow.
I’m also in H.M.S Pinafore, my last ever show at LUU. Which might account for how nautical this all is.
Or not. Who knows?