Man, September 2022, that month truly felt like I was swimming in some deep, blurry waters. The whole “Pisces Vibe” thing, whatever you wanna call it, really hit me. I usually got my head screwed on straight, you know? But then, there I was, drifting a bit. Work felt… meh. Not bad, not great, just a constant hum that didn’t spark much joy. I found myself staring at the ceiling more often than I cared to admit, just thinking, or more like, not thinking anything coherent at all. It was a weird, foggy feeling, like trying to see through a dirty fish tank. Every time I tried to pin down what was bugging me, it just slipped through my fingers.
I remember one morning, I just woke up and felt this heavy blanket of… apathy. It wasn’t sadness, exactly, just a profound lack of wanting to do anything substantial. My usual routines, the ones I’d built up for years, they felt like chains. I’d sit down at my desk, open up my laptop, and just… browse. Not for anything specific, just endless scrolling. It was draining, honestly. And the projects I was supposed to be hyped about? They just sat there, staring back at me, mocking me a little bit. I needed to snap out of it, but I just couldn’t figure out where to even start. My gut just kept telling me something needed to shift, but gave me no damn directions.
So, I started small. I grabbed an old, beat-up journal I had lying around, the kind with a broken spine. Figured maybe writing down all this blurry stuff would help. I didn’t have a plan, no fancy prompts. Just started scribbling whatever came to mind. Most of it was nonsense, frankly. Like, “Today, the coffee tasted bland.” Or “Watched a squirrel chase another squirrel. Good for them.” Real deep stuff, you know. But I kept at it. Every morning, before anything else, just ten minutes of unfiltered garbage onto the page. No judgment, just getting it out.
Then I started forcing myself to walk. Not to get fit, not for a destination, just walking. I’d pick a direction, usually away from people, and just go. I’d try to notice things. A particular shade of green on a leaf, the way the light hit a certain building, the smell of damp earth after a rain. I didn’t think about work, I didn’t think about my “vibe.” I just walked and looked. And I started recording little bits about these walks in that journal too. What I saw, how the air felt. Nothing profound, just observations.
The weirdest thing happened after about two weeks of this. I was on one of my aimless walks, staring at some construction workers tearing down an old building, and it just hit me. Like a brick to the head, but in a good way. All this feeling of being lost, of floating, it wasn’t about being unproductive or unhappy. It was about craving something new. My routines, the very things I thought were anchors, they’d become traps. I was trying to fit new feelings into old structures, and they just weren’t fitting.
The Shift and the New Path
This was the real “key insight” part, I guess. I realized I wasn’t broken; I was just evolving, and my old ways weren’t cutting it anymore. The “Pisces Vibe” wasn’t some curse; it was my gut telling me it was time to let go of the familiar and swim into uncharted waters. This wasn’t about fixing something; it was about building something different.
So, what did I do? Well, first off, I stopped forcing myself into the same work tasks every day. Instead, I started allocating an hour each morning to just tinker. No goals, no specific project. Just explore a new tool, read about a different tech stack, or even just doodle concepts. I remember I spent a whole week just messing around with some old 3D modeling software I hadn’t touched in years. No end product in mind, just playing. It felt strangely liberating.
I also started consciously saying “no” to things that didn’t resonate, even if they were things I “should” do. A long-standing commitment to a community project that had become a drag? I gracefully stepped back. Meetings that felt like time sinks? I found ways to contribute asynchronously or just skip them if they weren’t vital. This was tough because I’m usually a “yes” person, always want to help. But I saw how those “shoulds” were just sucking my energy dry.
- I started a new side project, something completely unrelated to my day job. No pressure, just for fun.
- I reconnected with an old friend who worked in a totally different industry, just to hear his perspective on things.
- I rearranged my home office, physically moving things around to break up the old visual cues.
- I made a point to spend at least one evening a week doing something purely for pleasure, not productivity. Cooking a complicated meal, listening to an entire album without interruption, that kind of stuff.
The journal continued, but now it was less about rambling and more about noting down these new explorations and the feelings they stirred. I watched how slowly, but surely, that old fog started to lift. It wasn’t like a sudden clear sky; it was more like the sun gradually burning off the morning mist. Small moments of excitement started popping up again. A new idea for my side project, a fascinating piece of information I stumbled upon, a laugh during a casual chat.
Looking back, that September wasn’t about finding definitive answers. It was about recognizing the call to explore, to drift a little intentionally, and to trust that sometimes, the “vibe” is just a subtle nudge telling you it’s time to build a new boat and set sail in a different direction. It taught me that sometimes, the most practical thing you can do is just let go of the rudder for a bit and see where the current takes you, then pick up the tools and start shaping your next journey.
