“Being on tour is like being in limbo. It’s like going from nowhere to nowhere.” ~Bob Dylan
I feel like I’ve been living in some kind of strange limbo for the past few years. I am intermittently focused on my personal development, but these bits of focus are interrupted by long periods of nothingness – times during which I just exist, almost as though I’m on autopilot.
Being in limbo feels like you’re in a constant state of not knowing. I’m waiting, and for what? On one hand, I tell myself I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the world to show me what’s next in my story.
I busy myself with work, with decorating and redecorating rooms in my house. Wondering what will happen, but not trying to make it happen. I focus on things I can control, which are few in the grand scheme of things.
I wait, and I wait. I hope for some dramatic and wonderful shift that happens naturally and painlessly, and yet nothing comes. Part of me wonders if maybe I’ve just missed or ignored the parts I should have been paying attention to. The other part of me thinks that this is as good as it gets – and that leaves me between wanting to give up and trying to embrace what is.
Life, on paper, is pretty darn good. I am safe, I am healthy, and I always have more money than I need. This is the stuff that I spent a lot of my life trying to achieve. I have mostly everything I could want materially. I am comfortable and at peace with most things. I can say that I’m very grateful for what I have.
So why the limbo? What am I waiting for, exactly? I think I’m afraid to allow myself to see it or acknowledge it – even though some part of me is acutely aware that admitting it would be the first step out of limbo. Fear is a bitch.