Wednesday, August 22, 2012
A State of In Between
I am neither here nor there. I am not a student nor an adult. I am not in a relationship but we are not yet broken apart. I am not in this room or that room, but standing in the doorway; the threshold, the liminal space. Liminality. It used to be one of my favorite terms. I learned about the idea of not being one or the other but both and neither at the same time when I was an undergrad reading about the post-colonial struggles and complexities of Africa countries after the Western Europeans "left." I loved examining what happened to a person psychologically, spiritually, culturally, and physically when they were no longer able to recognize themselves within a very specific context and definition of a group or single identity. I threw around words like "metropole," "hybridity," and "emotional bulimia." I never thought I would be one of those people. Standing in this doorway, the memories of the life behind me - the joys, the struggles, the defending, the learning, the laughing and the crying. But also the life before me, the uncertainty, the hope for something better and greater, the possibility of moving (moving on, moving away, moving forward, moving up), the fear of being a grownup, the potential and wish for forever being a child, the pressure, the release and the fear, oh God, the fear. I brace myself here in this doorway not wanting to leave so many things behind but wanting to run toward what COULD happen. I wonder if I will be pushed, if I will fall, if I will place one foot in front of the other slowly and deliberately or if I will break out into a run and not look back for a while (for you know I will always look back, remember, never leaving the people we used to be and love and hate and are consumed by behind). So I will wait and remain here, in this state of in between, waiting for an answer, a sign, an email, a call, an open hand or a closing door from behind. But while I wait, I will be preparing. I will lace up my running shoes, set money aside, continue to dream and stretch and save and plan. This doorway will be my shelter for now. And only for a little while.