Surviving the Doldrums

Waiting on the Wind

Photo by Alex Perez on Unsplash

In this modern age it’s almost impossible to imagine the fear of being stuck in the middle of the great Atlantic only to have your sole means of locomotion – your wind- suddenly vanish.  The heat, the dwindling supplies of food and fresh water, the boredom and most of all the uncertainty.

It’s no wonder that sailors had many superstitions around what was required to avoid the doldrums:

No women on board, no red heads, don’t look back to shore after you’ve left, don’t say the word pig; if someone says goodbye to you – you’re effectively cursed - don’t clip your nails…. The list goes on.

Humans like control.  It’s perhaps what we believe separates us from animals – our ability to exact our will over our lives.  We don’t like having our destinies tossed about by the winds of fate. Yet, worse than rough seas for those of you like me, is when there is no motion – when our best efforts seem to fall flat - when nothing takes sail.

How does one handle the in between?  When you’ve left one life or identity or way of being in the world, but you haven’t quite reached the other shore.  Being “in the middle of the ocean” without much to do can be a challenge.  Questions of self and identity and purpose creep in to haunt us.  Who am I if I am not so and so’s spouse?  If I am no longer a full-time parent?  Who am I without this career to define who I am.

Sailors had lots of “cures” for the doldrums - whistle up the wind; wear your clothes backwards; throw someone overboard.

If you are like me your inclination is to go find an oar and frantically start rowing.  As I shared previously my mantra is when in doubt M-O-V-E. Of course, if you know anything about boats a single oar rowing will just keep you going in circles, which if you’ve been sitting still for a while may feel better and yet … 

I love etymology – so much hidden meaning and wisdom in the origin of words.  Did you know that one of the roots of doldrums is tantrum?  I probably don’t have to connect the dots for you on this one.

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I left my Catholic upbringing when I was 14.  I suppose I was destined to be a heterodox.  Always questioning and challenging things that don’t make sense.  Yet despite that I do have a mystical and deeply spiritual side to me.  Whether it’s rational or not I want to believe that life has more magic in it than what I of my little ego self can muster.  This isn’t fantastical thinking.  I have had moments of synchronicity – of encounters and opportunities that I honestly can’t take any credit for.  There has been a wind that has helped propel my ship along the sea of life. Cynics may call it coincidence and yet there is something there… Even the staunchest atheist I would venture has had moments of grace that they just can’t explain.

So, what does one do when there is no wind?  When you have left the port of your old life and can’t go back -don’t want to go back to your old life and way of being - and you feel stuck in the middle of a vast ocean?

As I am in this midlife pause – and have left the shores of my younger years the essence of my “crisis” really comes down “Where should I set my sail?”  While I can’t conjure the winds, I can make myself ready.  Making sure that my boat is in the best shape to move once the winds of fate begin to blow again.  As Seneca says, “opportunity comes to those that are prepared”. Sailors used the down time to mend nets and repair things. I guess I can tackle my long-ignored junk drawer.

Photo by Juli Kosolapova on Unsplash

I do realize I am not a sailor, and I am not at the whims of the wind and yet for once moving for the sake of moving doesn’t feel right.  I am searching for inspiration.  Something that ignites my sense of possibility and purpose.  You see that’s the challenge.  I can make money. I know how to do that.  The real question is can I make money in a way that also inspires me and allows me to show up in the world with my gifts, talents and abilities while also making an impact?  This is a tall order.  This is wanting to put my I AM out into the world.

The Japanese have a word for this: Ikigai.  It is the intersection of What You Love.  What you are good at.  What the world needs and what the world is willing to pay for.  I love the idea conceptually and yet it also feels like expecting your spouse to check all your boxes and fill all your needs.  That’s a lot of expectation to put on one person or one undertaking.  It puts a lot of pressure on me to “get it right” and God knows I don’t need permission to be hard on myself.

I wonder if there is a different way. 

Sailing represents an interesting dance.  We have no choice to surrender and take direction from the wind, but we also have the free will to adjust our sails.  How much of life is like that – a conversation if you will between our own efforting and intentionality and those random uncontrollably circumstances interplaying with each other.  I don’t want a monologue with Life but a conversation - a relationship in fact. Yet unlike my youth - I want to settle down - I don’t want a Tinder hook up but a committed relationship with this unseen force in my life.

One could spend years randomly hopping from port to port letting the wind blow me at its whim with no real sense of direction and purpose. I often feel like a grown-up version of the bird in the children’s book Are You My Mother? Looking for that place and that opportunity that finally creates a sense of integration, wholeness and belonging.

In case you’re wondering, I’ve done all the self-help blah blah (how’s that for a cool new phrase?) looking for the ah ha of clarity. Here’s the problem.  If you consider the oft-used symbol of transformation – the butterfly – imagine asking a caterpillar to envision its best life.  It could figure out it’s Ikigai from the perspective of a caterpillar’s sense of what it loves; what it’s good at; what the world needs and will pay for.  Based on deep introspection the caterpillar might decide to open a gourmet leaf restaurant.  We all know the problem of course.  The caterpillar can’t see around the corner of its life.  It has no idea that as it goes into the doldrums of its cocoon that something is emerging that it can’t even fathom.  All of a sudden that caterpillar ikigai no longer makes sense. In fact, it’s somewhat ridiculous because unbeknownst to the caterpillar it can now FLY! 

Photo by AARN GIRI on Unsplash

I like to think that is the opportunity of midlife to allow a disintegration of self that allows for a here-to-for unimaginable next chapter and life to emerge. While it sounds exciting, for the moment, I just feel rudderless. And what about the wind? Where is my wind? To extend the relationship metaphor (are you still with me, dear reader?) I am inspired by a poem by David Whyte, The True Love where he invokes the courage it takes to open your heart to what it truly wants. He invokes, “There is a faith in loving fiercely the one who is rightfully yours, especially if you have waited years and especially if part of you never believed you could deserve this loved and beckoning hand held out to you this way.”

What if this love doesn’t have to be found in another but in life itself - my life - the one I am choosing and crafting for myself. Choice by choice. He goes on…

"because finally
after all this struggle
and all these years
you simply don’t want to
any more
you’ve simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours."

And so there it is - why I am waiting in the doldrums - because I don’t want any life, I want the one that I love; that makes me feel alive; and that deep in my soul I know is mine.