The Ship That Won’t Sink

Lately I’ve been thinking about survival ALOT.

From feeling like I’m in a constant state of mental and emotional survival mode to trying to wrap my mind around how we’re even surviving the state of the world right now.

Everything feels like a crisis.Our rights…our assurances…our world is in collapse.All around, there is visible struggle.

I’m panicking in theory.But I feel like…like I’m… floating.

I told my therapist I feel like I’m on a ship that won’t sink. Something is clearly wrong with it — there’s water up to my neck — but it never actually goes under. The danger never resolves, but the rescue never comes either. I’m just suspended there, treading emotional water I don’t know how to swim in.

No, seriously though. I can’t swim.

And then we started talking about safety.

Not just physical safety, though that’s part of it when you live in a body that can be unpredictable.Not just mental safety, though that’s part of it when your brain is always scanning, always trying to unlearn and relearn, always thinking three steps ahead.Not just emotional safety, though that’s part of it when you’ve internalized enough small disappointments to start believing, “I’ll just do it myself.”Not just internal safety, though that’s part of it when your own confidence has let you down more than once.

All of it together leaves me feeling like I’m standing on a cracked foundation.

Which brings me to old man Maslow and his pyramid.

We’re taught that before we reach purpose, creativity, and fulfillment, we’re supposed to have the lower levels in place: safety, belonging, stability, social connection, etc. The theory says you build upward.

But what happens when you’re trying to live from the top of the pyramid while constantly repairing the bottom?

Entrepreneurship asks for confidence.Creativity asks for freedom.Purpose asks for vision.

But survival asks for stability.And when stability is shaky, everything else feels like juggling on a tightrope.

I’ve been trying to juggle all five levels at once.

My nose turns red when I’m cold, but I am not circus-trained.

No wonder I feel chaotic.

What I’m realizing, slowly, is that grace might look less like fixing everything and more like acknowledging what level I’m actually operating from on a given day.

Some days are self-actualization days.Some days are belonging days.Some days are just safety days.

And maybe none of those are wasted days.

They’re probably more like signals.

Maybe the work isn’t to force myself up the pyramid, but to tend to the layer I’m standing on — without shame for being there.

I still believe in purpose.I still believe in using my creativity to help people build their dreams.I still believe stories and experiences can change lives in small, meaningful ways.

I’m learning that purpose doesn’t disappear when your foundation cracks.But does it wait for you to stabilize enough to stand?

I don’t know for sure, but for now, I’m not asking myself to juggle.

I’m asking myself to breathe and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

To notice what feels unsafe and name it without rushing to fix it.To offer myself the same grace I’d give anyone else navigating uncertainty.To trust that rebuilding a foundation isn’t failure — it’s preparation.

What if…the ship hasn’t sunk because it’s not the end of the story.Maybe it’s just the place where I learn how to stay afloat.

All Is Well,— Ashlee

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