And then there are the limbo moments – moments that you hang haplessly in a space between needing to cry out to someone and being in wholesome solitude. You don’t want to indulge in your weakness; you’re strong enough to stand on your own. But you know you’re also not completely fine; you wish you didn’t have to deal with it on your own.
You don’t do anything, because, simply, there’s nothing that should be done. There’s nothing that can be done. You simply wait. The sun sets; the sun rises. Winter advances; spring dawns. It’s both painful and liberating – painful because there’s nothing you can do; liberating because there’s nothing to do. Just wait – inevitably, unreservedly, expectantly, joyfully.
It’s an albatross. It soars in the desert sky. The dunes shift and heave in the wind’s breath, but the albatross soars.