What does it mean to be unmoored? A great big world spins about me or, rather, I find myself in a great big world spinning about itself, and I can do nothing but watch. I do not wish to slow it down or stop it the same way I used to. But I am fascinated all the same by this state of affairs. There are very few cultural boundaries imposed on me which realistically could or would limit my identity or outward perception of society. Rather, that space is nearly entirely left to my explore and, optionally, to inhabit. I possess the freedom, as I so wish to wield it, attained for me by others who came before me, to choose and assemble elements of my character, to build the qualities, across a number of axes of self-identification, which make up my personality. I realize there is a great responsibility in executing those choices: how to behave myself, how to organize and manage my time, with whom I socialize or associate myself and for what reasons, etc. These examples are but a few which are the cognitive scaffolding abutting the critical decisions, habits, and opinions which inform me and, over time, will make up my life.

Upon reflection, this lends itself to disorientiation. A logical mind may wish to construct a coherent, consistent worldview from this playground. A more emotive mind may envision an Edenic growth for confident, proud, unadulterated self-expression. In my experience, neither of those aims are often successfully shaped. We ultimately know no permanent sense of direction. The ground too frequently shifts from underneath us.

In such circumstances, then, I am fine with just a raft. Simply to float over the open sea is a sufficient enough enterprise. Let me rest, adrift, unperturbed by concern whether I will once again sight shore. My hand already sifts through sand.