You Sleep, I Creep

Sneaky analog moments and loud cameras

Ooops, two photos this week. (Errr… actually three)

On a recent boat ride from Shetland to Aberdeen, I couldn’t sleep. The sea wasn’t rough, but my mind wouldn’t stop sloshing about with the oceans of thoughts I’ve been dealing with lately. I found myself wandering up on deck and through the corridors of the boat.

I couldn’t help but take these two photos. To me, they really sum up my experience of travelling on Scottish ferries, always trying to save a bit of money or booking last minute when there are no beds left. You know those limbo travel moments sitting in an airport on a layover, bobbing on a boat, or hurtling through the countryside on a train.

You’re locked in. You’re not the pilot. You’re in full passenger mode. I love it, especially since most of the time I’m behind the wheel of HMS Guesty (my van, pictured below). I do enjoy driving, but my mind can't wander too far from the road, not in the way it can when I’m not at the helm of HMS Guesty. It got me thinking about all the ways I try to fill time when I’m not really in control of it.

These in-between moments can be unexpectedly rich for me. Sometimes the words flow, and I let rip with a stream of consciousness, part nonsense, part processing, part story. Other times, it’s simply dumping the mind of all the thoughts whirling around in my freckly cranium.

HMS Guesty

Lately, I’ve been trying (a slightly expensive) way to properly absorb a book: listening to the audiobook while holding the physical copy in hand, highlighters at the ready. Listen, pause, underline, scribble, repeat. It feels indulgent and focused all at once.

And then there are the quieter moments. Ditching devices, stepping away from the productivity trap, and just letting the world pass by. These are the ones I hope to lean into more and more, softening the gaze, letting the mind drift, not grabbing at the stories swirling through my freckled, eggshell head.

For the self-employed among you, I imagine this might sound familiar. That constant push to do more, spin more plates, prove your worth. I’ve got that habit too always feeling like I should be doing, moving, making.

Here’s a track I had looping while writing this: a little ode to The Doors and that “fragile eggshell mind” lyric that always stuck with me. Stick it on, see if it fits the drift.

Spotify link

And maybe that’s the point. That we need those moments, those limbos, to find a little stillness.

How do you spend those moments, hours, days?

Thanks for listening or reading.

Till next time,
Mike