By: Revanche

Limbo

January 30, 2012

It’s been weeks of waiting, though not with bated breath which brings back memories of an awful man who punned “baited breath har har” and thought he was terribly funny when he was only terrible.

Waiting for the next shoe to drop ….

Waiting for decisions to be made ….

Waiting to make my next move….

Waiting….

There was life to live these many weeks, one day after the next, and so much to do in the name of survival but most of the time it all felt very much a hidden game of suspense. I didn’t know what to call it at the time, but I was, the whole time, admonishing myself not to play to any perceived or imagined result during this waiting game.

Just a week and some days ago, one of the few people I felt free to speak to in some way about this asked after my progress when I had reached my Zen state and he was astonished that I wasn’t fretting over the length of time I’d spent waiting.

But having progressed to the next stage of waiting, I’m sharing the fact that I’m waiting. For a thing. I can’t say for what publicly until I have a result – that’s just my rule, I can only say that I am.

I’m not worried, precisely. I’m not afraid of the results whichever way they go, I’m just waiting to see what develops from here. It’s a strange place, this.