Float

2025 began as a deeply challenging year for me. On the surface, everything looked like it was falling into place. I got married, found financial stability, and started a career job. But inside, I felt disconnected from myself. I felt like I was just there, going through the motions, drifting through life like a tree carried by a river.

That feeling came from many places. Although my job was good, it wasn’t what I had dreamed of, and I couldn’t ignore the sense that I was drifting away from the path I had worked toward for over six years. I was no longer performing and realized how much I had grown to love it. I had nearly stopped composing altogether, completing just one piece that had mostly been written the year before. I was living farther from my family than ever and found myself without the strong community I had always leaned on.

At the same time, I was beginning to understand my mental health more clearly. What I thought was anxiety turned out to be a form of OCD, one that often took control of my thoughts and made it hard to feel present. I felt isolated and stuck, wondering if I would always feel like this. I was just existing; I was floating through life.

Over time, I started to see something important. Floating still means being above water. It means you're still breathing. Still here. Even when it felt like everything could pull me under, I waited. I held on. I’ve come to accept that it’s okay to stop trying to swim all the time. Sometimes you need to rest. Sometimes it’s enough just to float.

I still have days where anxiety, OCD, or life in general weighs me down. But I remind myself that I’ve been through this before, and I’ve always made it out.

This piece is part of that healing. Unlike many of my previous works, it doesn’t center around conflict. It moves steadily, quietly, and intentionally; a reflection of the meditative journey I’ve taken throughout the year.

If you’ve ever felt stuck, or like you’re just existing without direction, I hope Float reminds you that those feelings are not permanent. Even when all you can manage is to float, you’re still moving forward. And slowly, the river will carry you toward something new.