Golden Times in Turbulent Waters: The Beauty of the Fight

Lately, I feel like I'm adrift at sea without my compass. The path I should be taking is blurred, and in these moments, I catch myself yearning for an easier life. But deep down, I know that's just a siren's call.

Easy isn't what I'm after. I'm chasing something tougher—to be sharper, more resilient, a veritable force of nature.

I know the days that leave me buzzing and ready to take on the world again aren’t the lazy Sundays. They're the ones where I've been in the trenches, fighting off challenges left and right.

"Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's a day you've had everything to do and you've done it."

That's some Margret Thatcher wisdom.

I often have to remind myself that real captains dream of hurricanes. That’s where you're minted, in the chaos and the crash of the waves. John Shedd tossed this gem our way:

“A ship is safe in a harbor, but that’s not what ships are built for.”

He’s damn right. Ships are crafted for the brawl with the sea, to chase the horizon where the sky kisses the water, not to rot tied up and forgotten.

This storm? It's just another squall. It'll roll over, as they always do. I'll claw my way over this mountain of tasks, navigate through the injuries nipping at my heels, and power through a schedule that feels like it's trying to swallow me whole.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry threw us a bone as well when he said,

"If you want to build a ship, don't drum up the people to gather wood, divide the work, and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast endless sea."

The burning desire for the deep blue makes a sailor, not the knots or the maps.

Again and again, it hits me—these aren't just the good times; they're the golden ones. If I can just shift my perspective, embrace the turbulence, hell, even savor the struggle.

Then, maybe then, I'll deserve this incredible life I've lucked into. But as Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone puts it:

Sure, I might not be firing on all cylinders right now, but I'm still in the fight, day in, day out. That persistence, that refusal to bow out – it's going to pay off. The momentum is gathering, even if I can't see it yet.

Sooner rather than later, I'll hit my stride again and find that groove. And when I do, there'll be no stopping me. Storms make captains, and this one's about to chart his way through the tempest.

So, what's the plan? Are you content to linger in the safe embrace of the harbor?

Or are you itching to dive headfirst into the storm to test your mettle against the fury of the sea?