There’s that question again: “How have you settled back in?”. It is a perfectly reasonable enquiry, polite and thoughtful, yet for so long I struggled to find an answer that sat comfortably with me. It made me consider that I might not be at ease with the transition - have I found myself all at sea since returning to land? Something wasn’t quite right and I needed to work out what it was about this question that conjured such a feeling of disquiet.
While there were many reasons we set out on our sailing adventure, one of the most important was to break out of the familiar rhythm of our lives and shock our senses with change. In essence, it was to agitate and disturb, to unsettle ourselves. And it worked. We were regularly in unfamiliar territory with our wellbeing teetering precariously on the edge of our wits. And we loved it.
I realised that my problem with this question was hiding in the word settle. To me it implied I had come to rest, reached my lowest energy point; that was not where I wanted to be. I needed to shake up the sediment of my life and watch it swirl around me then manage the fallout. It’s not that life doesn’t throw all of us curve balls that we deal with as best we can. Every person has their own story of difficulty thrust upon them and, on the whole, the resilience of the human spirit shines and inspires. It makes sense that we seek to avoid disturbance, but when disruption and challenge is our choice, it takes on a whole new personality.
So, with a rapid pulse (equal parts excitement and nerves) I head to the mountains for my first solo camping trip. While I’ll descend on my own into the Jamison Valley, I have with me for company my friends, Adventure, Challenge and Solitude. They are coming along to push me in a direction I have never been before and to make sure that I am very happily unsettling back in.