Welcome to Intentional Drift with Nick Thorpe
I’m a writer and coach based by the sea in Edinburgh, with a deep trust in the oceanic buoyancy of life. After crossing some choppy waters, literally and existentially, in recent years, this is a kind of (digital) message in a bottle, offered seasonally, full of my noticings, life-hacks and other flotsam and jetsam I've picked up along the way.
If you’re wanting a bit more contact than that, I offer a modest paid subscription with more frequent musings, discussion and resources from my imminent new six-month live online course, Second Wind: New Maps for the Magnificent Mutiny of Midlife. Watch this space for that…
Why Intentional Drift?
In an overheating world of warring certainties, I’m increasingly drawn to the creative act of allowing ourselves to let go and drift a little - and doing it with our eyes and heart wide open.
I’ve spent most of my life scanning the horizon in one way or another - whether literally crossing oceans as a travel writer, learning to sink or swim as an adoptive dad, or navigating existential cross-currents with the many courageous people who come to me for coaching.
My books are all experiments in drift of one kind of another. Eight Men and a Duck was a hare-brained 2500-mile voyage to Easter Island on a slowly-sinking boat made of reeds, while Adrift in Caledonia tested the serendipitous art of boat-hitching around the country I’m proud to call home. Most recently, in Urban Worrier, I burned out and decided to traverse the world in search of experts in the lost art of letting go.
Everywhere I go I meet fascinating, beautifully imperfect human beings who confirm the inner voyage is at least as important as the outer one, carrying us from the fevered preoccupations of modern society into a yearning for something simpler.
Intentional Drift is the nearest thing I have to a navigation plan, as I attempt to notice more and micromanage less. Like the 6th-century seafaring peregrini who set sail into the unknown deep, I guess I’m seeking a place of resurrection for myself and my fellow humans, as I navigate further from prescribed maps and into the magnificent mutiny of midlife.
I’d love to have you on the voyage!
NOTE: Knowing how overwhelmed I get by the tsunami of spam washing up on my shores, I’ve no intention of sending much more than an occasional newsletter to your inbox, unless you’ve actively subscribed for more than that. But if you want more content, just check back here, use the nifty Substack app, and/or follow me on Linked In or Facebook. xx
