Chasing Fog

Last weekend’s camp was hard. Mentally draining, too, for a few different reasons.

One young person was struggling with frustration and personal regulation. The behaviour was difficult, but behind it was somebody having a difficult time.

The adult team was new to working together—not inexperienced in Scout camping, but still learning how each other works.

And there was no properly structured plan. Without one, I found I had no lodestar: nothing fixed to navigate by when things became messy.

Moving into this week, I have struggled to focus. It has finally manifested as the cold that is doing the rounds, as though my body has decided to make the point for me.

I have friends all around me who are struggling. I want to help, but sometimes I do not know how. At other times, I know what might help but am physically unable to provide it.

Then I heard this:

Don’t go chasing fog with a butterfly net. All you will catch is disappointment.

It lodged in my head.

Is the whole world just getting by at the moment, and this too will pass? Or are we entering a sustained period of struggle—not just as individuals, but as a population?

I find myself looking for escapism and watching more on the streaming services. Not because I expect to find an answer there, but because sometimes another story is easier to inhabit than your own.

From the outside, this may look like depression. I do not think that is quite what I am feeling. It feels more like a reaction to a shift in society and community: away from compassion and presence, and towards blame and hostility.

Perhaps the answer is not to chase the fog.

Perhaps it is to stay near the people we care about, remain present where we can, and wait for enough of it to lift that the next landmark becomes visible.