Water in the Floorboard

If you’ve been reading these weekly articles, you’ve likely noticed the last few weeks have been a little morose. I’ve felt like a frayed nerve lately and haven’t been getting much sleep. It happens. What I’ve learned through sharing this with everyone lately is that quite a few of you care about me. So many folks reached out in comments, direct messages, and texts to offer advice and to reaffirm that it’s okay to feel low and lost sometimes.

It was both encouraging and shocking to hear that so many of you are feeling the same way in this season. I was glad that I wasn’t alone in my feelings, but saddened by the fact that so many of us are smack dab in the middle of this wilderness. At least we’re together. That’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned.

Our islands of isolation are self-created, and if we talk about this stuff out loud, perhaps we find other island-dwellers to commiserate with. It’s easier to devise an escape strategy in a community. Here’s to building lifeboats and signal fires and finding our way to the solace of purpose once again, together.

I’ve had a chance to hit the woods a few times in the last few weeks, and it’s been life-giving. I was even able to film a few new episodes of my show, Catching Creation. That felt like home. There’s something about being in the wild and sharing my passion with others through those videos that always makes me feel like I’m in the right place. The days are long, the trails can be tough, and I’m smiling the whole time.

On one of our most recent adventures, my best friend and longtime cameraman, Daniel, and I drove to the Sandhills of North Carolina. Although we didn’t find many things to glue folks to their TV screens, it was still fun. We drove through some of my favorite places in the world. We even found a few new areas that we’ll explore more in depth soon. Our trip ended with getting Daniel’s tiny Chevy Tracker stuck up to the doors in a mud puddle. I knew we were in trouble when water filled my passenger-side floorboard, and I had to climb out of the driver’s side. It ain’t an adventure without a little spicy situation, right?

Neither of us was really fazed by this, which is an improvement for both of us. We laughed it off and got to work stacking rocks and sticks in and around the tires. None of that worked. I was able to call a friend who was about an hour away, and just before they were ready to leave, someone drove by with a tow strap. They yanked us out, and we were on our soggy way. This, again, reaffirmed my love for the network of friends and strangers that surround me, who are willing to help when times are low and even muddy.

Sometimes it makes me wonder why the stresses of everyday stuff are so exhausting. I should have been stressed when I almost had to swim out of our vehicle, nearly two and a half hours from home, but it was funny to me, not stressful. My nine-to-five government job is the opposite. None of this stuff matters; none of it can actually harm me or affect my safety, and yet it drains my battery and stresses me to the max.

I wonder if actual stressful situations, like getting our vehicle stuck, are better simply because there’s a resolution. Work stress seems never-ending because, well, it is. I assume it’s all a matter of perspective. Most of you would likely be way more uncomfortable with semiaquatic vipers, but I took a whole trip to spend a fleeting moment with one. I digress.

All in all, I’ve taken your advice and started trying to set things down, rest, and focus on what matters. I’ve found that I’m most myself when I’m holding some animal in front of an audience, whether physical or digital, and perhaps I ought to double down on that again. If anything, for my own mental health. So, here’s hoping the best is yet to come and there are many more muddy days ahead.

_____________________________

Stan Lake is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker based in Bethania, North Carolina. His work has appeared in Dead Reckoning Collective, The Havok Journal, Reptiles Magazine, Lethal Minds Journal, and other outlets, and he directed Hammer Down, a documentary about his 2005 deployment in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom with Alpha Battery 5-113th of the North Carolina Army National Guard. For The Havok Journal, he often writes essays and reflections about war memory, veteran life, the outdoors, and everyday experience. You can find his books, collected works, and social media at www.stanlakecreates.com.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.