Confusion is the pain of the soul. It is destructive, and yet also creative. It is the pain of birth whenever we dare to see something old and common as new and divine. There is nothing more beautiful, and yet we cannot but be troubled by the experience.
The alternative is a stone soul carved out from a lifetime of indifference.
Better to be lost out there on the open seas, while searching for our squandered souls in strange and foreign docks along the way.