Unfulfilled

Lately I've felt like I have an invisible splinter in my soul. There is some sort of a thorn in the center of my being that I can't seem to find in order to take it out. There is an illusive something that is nagging me constantly and I can't seem to figure out what it is so that I can remove it or supply some kind of salve in order to take away the discomfort.

This is nothing new, really. Its been a nuisance for quite some time now. I think that this knowing that there is an element in my life missing has been what drove me to move away, constantly looking for what's next, and the force behind my desire to go to grad school. I'm not unhappy. Not at all actually. I believe that I'm the most content than I've been in a while. And yet, I find myself checking into grad school on a weekly basis, the neverending search for new hobbies, books, movies. Something, anything, to explore the nature of me to find what this splinter is, to discover the piece of the puzzle that is missing.

Perhaps this is part of the nature of life. I assume that this is nothing out of the ordinary, feeling this way. I assume that most people go through this same thing often. Its possible that its the continuation of my quarter life crisis. That time when you hit that brick wall of reality in the realization that this is life, this is it, this is all it has to offer. And yet, I hate the taste of those words in my mouth. I hate the thought. Its like a concession, a surrender to the ordinary. I don't want that. Who does want that? No one, if I had to guess.

That is what drives me to pursue something more. That will be what pushes me to continue to look into school, find new hobbies, books, movies. I don't think that this is bad, as long as its balanced with a sense of contentment. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should give up this desire for more. Maybe I'm wrong. But I can't imagine that God created us just to go through life feeling unfulfilled. I want that fulfillment of my life meaning something, of my days being filled with purpose.