Leave the great indoors

"So go unlock the door
And find out what you're here for
Leave the great indoors
Please leave the great indoors"

--John Mayer


I had a very bad week which, as I told some friends, marked my descent into that black hole called burn-out.

Burn-out and I are no strangers: I've been through it once about 5 years ago, but when it hits, the force of it still leaves me, in a twisted sense, impressed. You'd think familiarity would breed contempt, or at least some assurance that you've beaten it before. But the physical and mental weariness, is something that still knocks my socks off. But the worst part has to be that feeling of being hollowed out of all those good things that have been keeping me strong and sane, and being replaced by emptiness. The great emptiness, when nothing matters.

My first impulse was to stay in my own room, with the curtains drawn and lights out, and just lie there, starfish-style, and do nothing and just, breathe. I'm too tired to face the outside world. But I've realised from past experience that my mind can be the worst prison and just as a prisoner loses freedom, I lose perspective.

I decided to get out, to go to East Coast Park with friends and cycle. The fresh air would do me good, I reckon. We cycled to the end of the jetty and stopped there. We looked at the other people milling around at the jetty, at the many planes that passed by, at the ever-shifting sea. We took in the sea breeze. We chatted about how our jobs suck.

I looked up at the big blue sky and the sea, and felt, for a brief while, that I could breathe freely again. My troubles seem like those isolated debris floating in the sea, irksome to the eye but insignificant. The sea is still beautiful in spite of them. My troubles are not over yet, but even a brief reprieve, I think, makes the going on a bit easier.