a little lost, a little out of touch

Have you ever felt as if you had much to tell, but nothing to say? 

Just as a camel cannot pass through the eye of a needle, genius does not pass through a vessel of foolishness, however promising or protean as it is. Not to say I have genius, which would be a good way of fooling myself into the grave. Just that I feel I have much to say, but no way to say it. Or much to tell. Is there a difference?

I'm at a strange place in life. I am good at what I do but not good enough or interested enough to do it forever. I'm happy with what I've become but sad to be what I am. And I find myself surrounded by better actors who are either more talented or better at pretending not to be mediocre.

things begin to change

With spring not far, many of our thoughts begin to turn to change.  Some find new jobs, new lovers, new homes. Whatever we do, our surroundings change.  The snow thaws and the birds return.  The sun shines more sweetly on long-shadowed avenues walked by short-skirted women.  The city bristles with hope and at least the dream of optimism with the asphalt summer coming slowly, delicately into focus.

It's usually an exciting time for the simple reason that, well, there is hope in change.  There is hope in the difference between tomorrow and yesterday, in the space where dreams often lie.

Not for me, though. I have always been content with the path of least resistance.  Give me the well-tread road dirt road anyday.  But here I am, at the seat of spring, with no choice but to dive headlong into unwelcome change.

My feelings change from day to day.  I think, at times, that change is a good and valuable thing, allowing us to grow in ways we cannot foresee.  I think that change in my case might particularly be good given that the status quo has been, at times, underwhelming.  But I also know that change can be disorienting, frustrating, troubling and even crushing.

So we'll see.