Lake of Molasses

I was e-mailing a friend earlier today, and I compared my life to a river of molasses with shore only barely within sight. I think it's really more like a lake than a river, but the rest of it is pretty accurate. Lake waters move, sometimes to shore and sometimes away, but usually must slower than a river and in a much more confined area. A river at least gets you somewhere.

So what do you do when you're stuck like that? Not even sure where shore is, or if there is a shore that's worth the struggle? You know (pretty much) that there's a life worth living out there, but you sure can't see it from here.

You hang on. You take care of yourself, keep yourself afloat, and keep your eyes out for landmarks to help you on the way. Landmarks include things that give you pleasure (head towards those), things that give you pain (head away from those), and solid rocks of assurance, perhaps in the form of your spirituality, a friend, a belief, a cause, or some other thing about which you have absolute surety. Using these rocks, you can find the right shore and get yourself out of the lake. But keep your head up, and keep away from the dangerous shores. Just because it's a shore doesn't mean it's safe or desirable.