I have the strongest feeling that I should be doing something else, somewhere else. Dislocated is the best word I can come up with.
I've been in this state, on and off, for a little while now - but it's been pretty constant for the past couple of days.
I can't get any further though. Or more specific.
I've been reading a lot (Mansfield Park by Jane Austin, Lyon's Pride by Anne MacCaffrey, Dancing Shoes by Noel Streatfield, Finding Sanctary by Abbot Christopher, the latest issue of Psychologies, The New Policeman by Kate *Something, I can't remember* - and I've finally found my copy of Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton). I know full well that I'm trying to distract myself. I'm also really busy with things I don't want to do (in that I would prefer not to do them, but also that I'm not sure that I should be doing them).
I had a fear when I was about 16, that life would gradually lose all the joy and fun and become just duty. I can't think of anything worse.
Finding Sanctuary talks about how we are tricked into being busy and that being busy is the only way to be. We feel like someone else is in control of our lives. Other people are in control of my life - because I let them. Because I don't have enough time, or self-confidence or vision to decide for myself or challenge them.
In some ways, I'm really tired of being different from the social norm. However, when push comes to shove, I wouldn't not be me. It seems like I am coming to a crossroads - I'm leading two parallel lives. I have chosen between them, but putting that choice into practice (i.e. telling other people) is a very scary thought.
I can't see the outcome, which bothers me. I like to be prepared.