Sometimes the transition between different phases of life is gradual. Other times it can be incredibly sudden. For me, the latest season change was incredibly well marked. From one day to the next, I was left with no sense of priority. The course of action I was taking stopped making sense overnight, after a very specific occurrence. All the things I was doing - pursuing a master's, working on a tech start-up, trying to maintain the life I have - suddenly felt out of place. With a freshly deprecated hierarchy of goals and needs and priorities, nothing seems particularly important because everything seems equally important. I am full of inspiration and strength but I'm having a hard time (and this is an understatement) putting them into a useful cause. Cleaning my wardrobe and studying for the upcoming university exam are suddenly left with the same degree of importance, or at least, that is how it feels. Making plans about the distance future and thinking about what to do this afternoon hold the same mental space.
All of this is, of course, unbearable. Nobody likes to feel like a deer, frozen in the headlights of the car that is about to run them over. That's why I'm still trying to do something, like writing this blog post, in the hope that I'll stumble upon something. Something that will unblock me or give me some pointers on how to rebuild the Pyramid of Important Things. I'm sure most of the building blocks could still be salvaged from the scraps of the old pyramid. They just need to be put back in a different order. Yet, some fresh material is still needed. The old material has grown stale and it won't be strong enough to hold its own weight. Old dreams are often slightly misaligned and a little less inspriring than new ones, so to speak. They shouldn't be scrapped completely, however, because they could hide useful patterns about what does not change in your desires.
Having said all of that, it's still a bit disheartening to see all of my energy running out like water down the drain. It serves no purpose and it dissipates into nothingness. Yet, I'd rather keep spinning in a circle, than going in a direction that I know not to be right anymore. Hopefully all the spinning will somehow help materialize a new way. Or maybe that new way will need to be willed into existence. We'll see.
I've always found a great refuge in writing. Sometimes it was all for the wrong reasons. Writing about how bad I feel about having to do something has always been a great trick to avoid doing the thing itself. In other occasions, though, writing about what bothered me unlocked a higher level of understanding. The same degree of comprehension could not have been achieved by just thinking. Weak points in reasoning stand out much more clearly in the written form. This is my hope while writing (and re-writing) this blog post. To find some clue hidden in plain sight. To find a diagnosis and a cure for the invisible illness that has taken place in my mind. Hopefully, one day, all the pieces will fall back into place, and a new, clear path will again be visible in the midst of the tall grass of the Field of Confusion.