In Case of Despair, Read This.

6 Soulfaring lessons to stave off burnout for my future self

I usually hate writing definitive advice or anything approaching firm rules. Instead I try to express how I relate to my own experiences in the hope that it will resonate and trigger thoughts and ideas for anyone who reads it that pertain to their lives.

But over the last year of sailing and writing my memoir – and in particular the last three months of writing essays and notes here on Substack – I find my mind clearing. Ideas are crystallising, given shape by the creative wealth that exists here – and through the discussions with all of you who read my writing.

So in this instance I will make an exception. If you permit me, I would like to distil thoughts and ideas from the last three months of essays and notes into a few simple lessons for my own life, based on reflections from the last 20 years. It’s about the day-to-day business of living. After all, how we live our days is how we live our lives.

There is nothing new or revolutionary in these simple ideas, they are things we are told over and over again throughout life. But to me, it is in the reframing and contextualising that they gain value. Through concrete context I can understand what they mean within my own lived experience, and that is of immense value.

So here is a letter to my future self, to return to in case of despair. I know there will be future times of darkness where everything gets muddled up. Perhaps I will burn out or become depressed again. I hope these thoughts can provide some solace then.

A crow looking out across Edinburgh, into the future

Dear future Alex,

Life is fragile.

Memento mori. Remember that you will die. You get a short flicker of time to experience all there is. You are alive on this coalescence of space dust, alongside the infinite wealth and beauty of the plants and creatures that inhabit it.

If you somehow forget, try to recall what you once knew out on the Scottish seas: that life is brief and fragile and sublime. That perspective was one of the prime catalysts leading you to quitting your job and setting sail, and a perspective that has grown deeper roots through that voyage, and through writing. Alone at sea, carried by wind and waves alongside gannets and dolphins, the entire scope of life seemed to exist in single moments. You were everything you needed to be and could be then.

Remember this quote, that sends echoes through your soul:

“I don’t want to live the wrong life and then die.”

—from Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel.

Pay attention with all your senses

Through sailing and writing you have learned to pay attention to nature all around you, wherever you are. Return to that if you are ever lost. Pay attention to the intermingling tapestry of scents: the salt of the sea, the damp earth and meadow flowers.

Listen to the layered sounds of wind, movement, and life wherever you go. The rhythm of splashing waves and the susurrus of wind across sails soothed you to blissful sleep at sea; let it soothe you now.

And remember to look up, pay attention to both the large and the small: a splash of colour, beams of light through a canopy, an iridescent flower or the milky way across a cloudless night sky.

Appreciate the movement and grace of living creatures all around, birds, insects, mammals, and fish. Appreciate the little things that make you appreciate your day alive in this world. Don’t forget the joy it brings you.

Seek a sense of belonging

Don’t forget the warmth and value you have found in gaining a sense of belonging over the last few years. Belonging in the world, in your community, in your own mind.

It’s through appreciating the fabric of the universe that underlies existence that you found it; the cycles of water and minerals flowing from mountains; the sun-energy and nutrients that pass through us temporarily, providing the literal building blocks for all life on earth. It’s also in the way you engage with your surroundings by immersing yourself in wind, earth and water.

But don’t forget there is belonging in community and the people in your life, through sailing, writing and your friends and family. Through belonging we all become part of the same fabric.

Existing is enough

Since we are all part of the same mesh, fuelled by the same sun, made of the same cosmic dust, all we can do is exist, and by existing we are enough. There is no need to prove your worth to the universe. You are the universe. Do the gannets, dolphins or pufflings worry about meaning or purpose? They exist, and in existing they belong to earth and all there is. And so do we. Don’t wear yourself down to earn the approval of others in the hope that your existence will mean more.

You, existing, already means everything.

Live with humility, kindness and gratitude

So don’t you see that you are a facet of a crystal to which all things belong? All different, part of one whole. Remember that all living things are an extension of yourself. Through sailing it became intuitive, seeing the birds all around, and the dolphins following Kismet along. You were there, part of it all, but the same. And it fostered a sense of humility and gratitude: to feel the same, part mineral, part animal, part consciousness as all living things are.

Kindness follows. Kindness towards yourself and all the world. It is the only thing that makes sense. Within that kindness lives the help we extend to others – to all living things. Through helping and showing kindness to others, you help and are kind to yourself. And give yourself permission to ask for help and receive the kindness extended by others. After all, we are all Soulfarers.

Immerse yourself in life

Enjoy this one rare life. Immerse yourself in it, experience the world around you. Try new things. Do hard things for the challenge and enjoyment of learning. In the midst of burnout and depression, you lost your sense of wonder and desire to do things. But as you started slowly doing hard things again – quitting your job, rebuilding a diesel engine, restoring a boat, setting sail around Scotland, and writing your memoir – you found that you gained perspective and joy. Not in every moment, but cumulatively over time, if you do them because they seem worthwhile to you.

There is so much to see and experience. The world is abundant in beauty, despite all the despair and ugliness. Remember to let yourself experience it.