I wish there was a cure

I remain a hopeless romantic - as trite as it may sound. Too many dreams, too little reality.

Silence welcomes the dreamer, the wanderer
the imagination of the soul searcher
the child inside of the weary philosopher
embracing the forgotten with velvet-lined obscurity
and filling the abyss of the lonely heart

I tried to write...

But it doesn't always make it out of my head. Something happened in Chicago or maybe before or maybe afterward - and I've been stuck in a strange place. On hold - so much of my life it seems is a holding pattern til I figure out what exactly I'm supposed to be doing or who I am supposed to be. In the meantime, I see so much of what I want in everyone else - people I don't even really know. How does it happen that so much of what I want to be or to become can already be in someone else? I've come a long way from where I was ten years ago and I see someone ten years younger who is already light years ahead and I'm always trying to catch up - running to stand still. Now, more than ever that song seems to fit.

It's one of those times I would love an epiphany, but God's never worked like that in my life. But I'm missing the subtlty of this particular moment. And I wrote a poem once in which I confessed that I would probably miss any epiphany should it occur because I'm too tied to this world for all my avoidance of it. And I've let hope get too far out ahead of me that I've lost sight of it for a little while - so I'm not sure what to do with the little faith I have at the moment.

I'm not mystical enough to claim a dark night of the soul - and it's more of a grayness and dullness anyway. So many questions to answer - just to get to the more challenging questions. What do I know of God to have any sense of calling?