The winter low

Those of you who actively follow this blog will have noticed that there have been significantly fewer posts published lately than in the fall. This is partly because Simon and I are currently working on a project for you, which takes some time.

On top of that, for my part, I'm still working on two other projects and there's more to do at work, since the big party is just around the corner. But these are all more or less excuses, because I know that I would still have more than enough time to write a post here and there, despite my above-average filled schedule. The real problem is that I'm currently in a motivational hole. My writing seems more alienating than innovative to me.

After thinking about my current situation for some time, I had an extremely interesting thought. Since I wanted to take blogging, like my other projects, a little more seriously, I decided to cut back a little in the professional world to have more time to work on my plan. The problem with this is that no one has gone down this exact path before me. For this very reason, I don't get any feedback on whether or not I'm on a wrong path; or as Seneca said one: “There is no favorable wind for the sailor who doesn’t know where to go.”

It feels like rowing a boat on the open sea, and although you've been rowing for some time, you still can't see any land in front of you. So you're not sure if you're rowing in one (the right) direction or if you're just going round and round in circles.

If you follow a conventional path through the working world, you will always receive documents that confirm, or should I say assure you, that you are on the right path (certificates, diplomas, letters and so on). These can be seen as buoys that tell you that your course is on target.

Such buoys are difficult to locate in a life that is off the beaten path. You have to trust your own competence as a navigator. But this trip is more like a baptism of fire. After all, it's more than arrogant and haughty to think that just because you own a boat, you're a suitable sailor. It is not easy to find one's place on this beautiful planet without any real foreboding.

Possibly it is also only a small vitamin D deficit, which brings the winter usually so with itself. Whatever it may be, through the philosophical knowledge that I have acquired over the years, I know that this time will also pass. In the meantime, close your eyes and get through it, because as Lao Tzu said, "A violent wind does not last all morning; a sudden rain does not last all day," and after all, this is not even really a storm than a small lack of motivation.