I’m stafford
The place you hold on to when you are lost and can’t decide which way to go.
You tie yourself when the wind is strong. You are buffeted by the storm and taking on water.
A protected cove. It’s stronger than the wind. To hold you safe, so you can decide.
And when you choose, you’ll untie your boat and sail the way you want, like everyone else. You’ll return only when you’re lost again or by happenstance. Because no one stays at the ford in the river. Like the old joke. When you come to a fork in the road, take it. But you cannot desire what you have, as absence is the essence of desire.