Hello!
This week has been up and down.
Aren’t a lot of weeks like this? Well, this is maybe embarrassing for me to admit (the privilege with which I can do this), but to be honest, I tend to go out of my way to remain as stable as possible. I’ve made choices in my life that are obvious reflections of this. I don’t have children. I’m not a carer. I don’t work in a public-facing, undervalued position of society. I essentially don’t have a lot of responsibilities outside my own as an adult.
I try keep myself on an even-keel as much as possible. And for the most part, I manage. I like stability, and I have designed a lot of my life around making sure I feel stable. Because anything that rocks my world, rocks it — shakes it violently.
I am exaggerating, of course. But also, not. Because that’s a little of what it feels like. Over-sensitive, under-equipped (or under-able) to cope.
Such is life. Ha.
Anyway, today all I want to say is that I was going to write another essay/letter etc, but this felt more the immediate truth. Where I am. In the boat. Rocking and swaying side to side. Wanting it to be steadier than it is. But also, knowing that I’m not going to die.
I wonder what people feel, reading this. People’s lives are often very messy and unsteady — through no fault of their own, but because they happen to have introduced more things into their life than I have. More things that would rock the boat.
Maybe they are better equipped to deal with the experience than I am. Maybe they are braver than me for taking more things on. (There is truth in that.)
But I guess all I can say at this stage is that your instability and my instability may not be the same, but we are still equals. We are equals in the sense that we chose to get in a boat and keep going.
May we weather the storm in our ways and under our own captaincy. But also, may we remember that we are not alone at sea. We can glance over to each other, in our own little boats, give a wave, maybe sometimes a hug, and acknowledge that we are doing our own damned best in this little life we have.
May we all find our sea legs.
Kathryn
Currently reading:
The Electricity of Every Living Thing by Katherine May. About autism, realising why you are different, and finding yourself along the way.
Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. How to write. How to listen. How to receive and trust your own experience, and then write it down your way.
Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit. “Credibility is a basic survival tool.”
Currently listening:
Kid A Mnesia by Radiohead. On Spotify | Apple Music.
Current ways to work with me:
1:1 coaching over a period of months. (I usually recommend 6 for us to really get to know each other and do the work — but I also offer shorter packages if you think this would be more suitable for you.) Of course, working with a coach, or anyone you don’t know well, for such a length of time can be a daunting prospect. So I invite you to have a chat with me, maybe some initial taster sessions, and we can find out if working together would be a good fit for both of us.
These initial discussions are free and no pressure to go ahead with coaching if it doesn’t work for you. I help creatives be kind to themselves amongst the turbulence, and help them figure out which direction they want to go. You are always the captain of your ship; but it’s also nice to sometimes have company. Schedule a call here.
Love this, Kathryn. The timing of your words (and that Kathryn May writing, omg!) is impeccable (freakishly so 😂). Sending love 💛💛💛
I am learning myself how much I value comfort. I thought it was freedom, but it’s really comfort.
Like you, I spent much of my adult life on my own with no one influencing how I steered my ship. No one to rock my boat.
Last year I became my parents’ caregiver and it’s totally rocked my boat. The year before that I got remarried. Less boat rocking because we had a 2 year courtship and 6 month engagement.
But yeah, I’m in this boat and I want it to be on a calm lake instead of a tumultuous ocean.