In Limbo

Have you ever gone through a season of life where one chapter ended, but you had no clue what was waiting for you on the other side? It can feel so untethering, unacnchoring to the ego to realize that we don’t have total control over what’s happening now, or how the next season will unfold. That lack of control can feel so dizzying. It’s times like these that can stir envy - for the people “who have it all figured out”, who seem to have the kind of steadiess we long for. To just have a moment of not feeling so lost; a kind of paradise we imagine.

Sometimes these seasons can bring a kind of identity collapse; of who we used to be, who we thought we were, and how we made sense of life itself.

The loss of a relationship, a job, the way things were, an opportunity—the waiting periods life can place us in can prompt seasons of feeling in deep limbo. A space that mirrors a Dark Night of the Soul: a melancholic wandering through the unknown. The in-between, the not-knowing, the liminal, a bardo, the void.

But maybe this is what limbo really is — an initiation. A dismantling of everything that once kept us certain, so we might finally learn how to live without the armor.
Nothing to prove, nothing to hold together — just an invitation into the slow, sacred work of meeting life as it is. So that we can evolve, deepen, and move closer toward the person we’re ultimately meant to become. It’s the opposite of striving, the opposite of forcing, I believe it’s not a call to do more - but to move toward being here fully, more humanly, alongside the right support.