Limbo Land

I’d like to credit and thank Royce Morales of Perfect Life Awakening for her recent blog and exactly perfect word that describes how I’m feeling these days. I suspect I’m not alone.

First, the definition of limbo from Webster’s:

1. place or state of restraint or confinement

2. place or state of neglect or oblivion

3. an intermediate or transitional place or state

4. a state of uncertainty

5. a dance or contest that involves bending over backwards and passing under a horizontal pole lowered slightly for each successive pass

6. In the 14th century it meant sense. And in 1948 limbo meant above.

I think it’s fair to say, other than the game which is a happy, distant memory of my spine-flexible past, most of us aren’t cool with uncertainty. Most of us want to know what happens at the end of the story; we want to know NOW, as in, can we order it Next Day Delivery from Amazon? That word—patience—is getting sooooo annoying.

Royce suggests that being in limbo is actually a good thing.

Come again?

It’s a spiritual plateau that prepares you for something significant that’s just around the corner. Being between a rock and a hard place isn’t as bad as you may think. Consider this, she says:

“I have learned that the ‘between-time’ is actually when the most is happening. Things are integrating, pieces are falling into place, others are arriving in our life, and we are being prepped for our next leap,” she writes.

Royce, perhaps more than anyone else I know, has learned to embrace the state of limbo. About eight years ago her beloved husband, Michael, had a massive stroke. Their heroic tale is the subject of “Back: Rebirth After Stroke”. She also writes about the couple’s inspiring journey in her blog and a Om Media radio show she hosts and also her YouTube Channel.

I’m a fan. Royce seems to intuitively know what I’m going through. And has the wisest advice.

Two steps forward, five steps back is how she explains Michael’s recovery. Gains. Losses. Recovery. And through it all, love, laughter and appreciation of new gifts, such as Michael’s awakened talents as a visual artist and his newfound ability to live in the present. Royce, too, has grown, acknowledging that she’s much more patient and trusting today than she was prior to her husband’s stroke.

“Honestly, the longer the limbo, the bigger that leap will be.”

Which is promising, right? But if I’m being honest, Royce’s words also make me scared.

“But I’m tired of jumping across cliffs!” I boo-hoo.

“I’m tired of waiting.”

“Sorry sis,” I answer myself, “comes with the territory called life.”

So let me get it out there, what’s been driving me (no pun intended) crazy for weeks, what’s making me feel like my feet are trapped in cement: My van. I realize if I keep driving her, having my van life adventures, other costly issues are bound to crop up. At 22, she’s a senior citizen in car years. However, if I sell her I’m grounded. I literally have no where else to live. Right now. She’s my cabin-on-wheels. And, I actually love her. When she’s not breaking down. When we’re adventuring. Discovering. Re-organizing. City streets stealth-ing.

True. Makes sense. But until that time comes, what to do, what to do? Continue to travel and risk further problems? Or ground her, me and Monet? Treat her tenderly? Find a place to live. Temporarily. Postpone my travel plans?

A few days ago when I had to take Luna Bella Blu in for yet another repair–this time Cylinder 6 was misfiring—I said to my mechanic Graham that my van and I were getting a divorce. To which he smiled and advised, “Wait until Spring. No one wants a van in the winter.”

Another shift.

Limbo Land.

Or as Webster’s defined it, “a state of confinement”.

Or as Royce calls it, the “in-betweens”.

Or as the 14th Centurians and 1948s referred to it as sense from above.

“It takes courage to admit what no longer works without knowing what will, to not make rash decisions or give up in frustration. Transitions from one way of being to another can’t be rushed; a new life can’t be forced into existence. Labor takes as long as it takes; resistance only makes it harder.”

Dear 2023:

Looks like I still have some work to do besides travel, shed economic stress, learn, grow, finish my novel, get back on the health train and re-align my values to my lifestyle.

Turns out, I need a change of ‘tude, a new plan. I need to fall in love with the Great Om, Mr. Limbo.

I’ll do my best. But be patient. As Shakespeare observed, “Be ye (me) slow of study.”



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