As a young fella, I was always scared of the dark, scared of the unknowns that lurk in the darkest corners of the room.

I'd lay there trying to sleep, my brain with its Nikes laced up, ready to bolt. Realising that sleep was something I couldn't catch - I built myself a mechanism to clear my mind - the simplest of mechanisms: a metaphor.

With my eyes closed, I’d imagine myself in the back seat of a car. It's night-time. I'm looking through the windscreen. The road's blurry with heavy rain. Even with the headlights on, it’s hard to see.

And those irrational fears? They’re stuck inside the beads of water rolling across my vision like they’re right in front of me.
But then, I’d turn the windscreen wipers on, and every few seconds, they’d cut through the raindrops with clinical precision - clearing the view once again.

That image stuck.
And I still use it today.


Those raindrops - the thoughts - they're the images of failure, the awkward jokes that fell flat, the concerns that it’s getting late and the motel down the road might not be open.

But there’s no point getting emotional at the sky. Weather is the last thing that will ever surrender control to us mere mortals.

The motel? Who cares. You just need to worry about staying on the road. If it’s not open - you’ll figure it out like you always do.

All that needs to be done right now is to anticipate that next swipe of the blades, watching those thoughts cut shapes across the windscreen until they’re swept away.

And when the rain gets heavier?
When the thoughts spiral?

You just crank the pace up on those bad boys and clear the windscreen even quicker.

Life is about momentum.
A rolling stone gathers no moss. Life is like riding a bike: momentum equals balance, balance equals momentum.
To get ahead, just get started. And if you can’t walk? Then crawl.

Often, the thoughts that smash our windscreen make the idea of moving forward feel almost unachievable.

But by focusing on those droplets, the wipers, they bring clarity.

Not all at once, not forever - just enough to keep moving forward. Just enough to slow your thoughts so you can fall asleep tonight.

“Even when the storm is intense - there’s always a moment of clarity between the swipes.”


I don't consider this to be avoidance.

It's clearing your viewpoint for now - to get the rest you need, to gain the clarity required to identify the next step.


The journey doesn’t always get easier.
But by turning on the wipers, you’ve now got clarity. You never forgot how to drive - you just know how to do it in the rain.