Sometimes you just feel stranded. A ship stuck in the shale on the beach, slowly decaying. Your pilot house gets pilfered; your planking comes undone. You are no longer a ship at sea. You are no longer doing what you are meant to be doing. You have lost your way and you have washed up on some shore for someone to take a black and white photograph of. You feel ignoble. Ashamed, perhaps. Lost for sure. Lost. Lost and stuck. Lost and stranded. But someone comes along and picks you up and you try again. You try to regain your humble nobility. You try to regain what you are - what you've lost along the way. You try again to regain that something that kept you from running ashore all those times before. And maybe you will find it and maybe you won't.
But you try again.
Because what else is there to do?