Decisions Decisions

Been reading the Bhagavad Gita. The other day I am sure it saved me from being mean to a coworker. Today...

Its the story of a man (Arjuna)  in a moment of great doubt concerning a decision. He asks his friend Krishna, who is also God, what he should do.  Krishna says he should act (wisely). Arjuna isn't satisfied, he wants to know how and why, he questions the path, and how he should know which is the right path. He asks about far more than the question at hand, he wants the answers to the Universe.  Krishna continues to indulge Arjuna, answering each question.

Arjuna eventually begins to question God, he attempts to do so respectfully, but he wants to know why he should trust the answers he is being given. Arjuna says "Let me see you" and Krishna allows him to see what no man has ever seen.  Arjuna describes it simultaneously as terrifying and joyous "A thousand suns exploding in the sky" he says he sees his enemies and loved ones alike being gnashed in Krishna's teeth and Krishna concurs that all things begin and end according to him, so their deaths and rebirths are already swirling in his thousands of mouths. Arjuna begs forgiveness for questioning his fate, his choices, his path and most of all Krishna, but Krishna reminds him that is why he is there... he comes to meet the faithful, to help them come to him.

A few days ago I turned 32, the culmination of decisions both active and passive.

I applied to Grad School officially the night before, with the hope that it might shed some light on my purpose.

Today

My Step Brother asked if I wanted to look for a place to live with him and Lacey told me she was engaged.

Life continues to swirl in and out of God's mouth, and I continue to question the path... the right path, the myriad paths in each stranger's eyes.  I am comforted by my small world, and simultaneously concerned that I am falling further and further into a darkness, an isolation, a place I might not ever return from.

I choose little things, like grad schools, and church services, as attempts to keep me anchored in the larger world, but I don't really want to commit to either.  I also want to ignore emails, texts, voice-mails, conversations... I want to sit alone in my room with my bloated stomach, nauseous from candy while I lose myself in mindless entertainment. I want to wake or not wake, and shuffle to a coffee shop and tapper out a story, a shifting, ever-ongoing path for make believe characters.

My mind is reluctant to clutch at shared meaning, my hands even more so for clothed shoulders.

I find a bit of voyeuristic pleasure in the faces that pass before me, but the more I study them, the more convinced I become that I don't share enough in common, that the pleasure would fade, and witness it fade as I consider it. In the moment I wonder if the path subtly chose me, or if I subtly chose the path.

Do I feel detached because that is where I am supposed to be? Witnessing myself, reassessing, considering, writing... Or do I feel detached because I chose these things over serving others?

and which is the path, and how do I know which is right, and how do I know I should trust that answer?

Most people have been reassuring me, but I often get the impression they are actually reassuring themselves. "Mike, you aren't really gone, because I don't want you to be."

Sometimes I believe them. Most of the time I don't.
Most of the time I am pretty comfortable with where I am at, I just dislike that I am.