Lost

So at what point do we have to sit down and admit that we are lost, at least somewhat. Is it even possible to be lost when you know where you are going, even know you are on the right road, but are unsure of where you are and what you are feeling at that exact moment?

I am tired of thinking. I want to act. But what action and to what end? When I am honest, I must admit that the actions I dream of, both waking and dreaming, are drastic, vibrant, truly alive, but also have true disaster potential. What does it mean that I dream of something that is not, cannot be?

Spring is dangerous. It wakens in me something that slumbers during my more civilized moments. It awakens the illicit and forbidden, the me that feels both more alive and more alien.

I fear this is something that work will not quiet. Perhaps I should amp up the running and the yoga, will myself to balance and forget what cannot be.