C is for Clayfield
“‘Muddy! Let’s go.’
Mark turned to the sound of his crewmate’s voice. He felt sluggish. A poor night sleep had robbed him of vitality. His thoughts were fuzzy.
‘It’s not the bloody orange juice talking to you, mate. Snap out of it.’
Mark marveled at the pulp hovering in the orange liquid.
‘Muddy!’ Again the voice: more urgent. ‘We’re up.’
His reply sounded like it was uttered by someone else, but eventually he rose and donned his blue Navy cap. It bore the embroidered insignia of the RAN: a crown astride an oval bearing the words Royal Australian Navy over a picture of an anchor. As the alert continued to sound, the passageways flooded with personnel. The Albany carried twenty one sailors including Midshipman Clayfield. He climbed the ladder to the deck where he followed the gaze of the assembled crew towards the horizon. A hazy dot bobbed in and out of view.” From chapter 1, Ashmore Grief
Mark Clayfield is a regular guy, a normal bloke. Some would say he has a pretty cool job. He gets to travel, and he’s doing important work for the country, for national security. On the surface Mark seems like he’s in control and knows what he’s doing. He knows where he’s going. Superficially, everything is okay.
However, Mark, like many people, is going through the motions of life. Something is wrong but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He feels a dissonance, a lack of purpose, and a strange malaise. If he thought about his situation enough, he might even identify the early signs of depression. He needs to change course, but doing so will require courage. It will involve taking a risk, or several risks, and it may invite ridicule or scorn or disappointment from others.
He wants to be a man who makes a difference. He knows if he waits for something to happen, it won’t. He has to move, to be proactive. What will it take?
What are you going to do about your situation?