The Art of Drifting

While enjoying my bus ride to Gulu, I kept looking out the window at the passing terrain. Something stood out for me: the farms. Every few kilometres, I saw men, women and children hard at work in different farms. Some were growing maize, others cabbages, and some other plants I don’t know.

Then there were these farms that weren’t being tended to. They had weeds growing in them. Some of these farms overgrown with weeds were next to well-kept farms.

One word kept coming to my mind.

Drifting.

Whenever someone stops proactively doing something, drifting sets in. Usually, the consequences are not desirable. When a farmer drifts, weeds grow. When two people in love drift, the love dies. When an employee drifts, production plummets. When I drifted, nobody visited this blog.

If there’s anything I’ve learnt from my travel to Gulu, it is this concept of drifting. Looking back on my life, I have realised that it is very easy to drift. As soon as life starts getting comfortable, money starts coming in, and I drift.

I have realised that I’ve done a lot of drifting this year. I have taken the path of least resistance and it has choked my creativity. I’ve learnt that whenever I don’t deliberately choose to think, my mind will wander. If I don’t deliberately choose to write, I get worse at it. I’m now starting to write again, and it is no longer as easy as it was before I drifted.

I used to jog everyday at the beginning of the year. Then I got so busy. I tried jogging after two months of not jogging, and I realised I had drifted. My body told me.

I am now evaluating my life. And I’m shocked at how much I’d drifted. I’d gotten used to swimming downstream with all the dead leaves and chaff instead of upstream.

You should also evaluate your life. Are you drifting in your career, relationships or hobbies? Do you need to get more deliberate about doing something? Remember, change rarely comes without action.