Limbo

I may have cancer. I may not. At the moment, does it really matter?

Neither here nor there. Neither hither nor thither. Undefined. Unsure. Unsteady. It's awkward. I'll know what I'll know when I know it. Until then...until I know, I'm in Limbo.


This is the hard part—not knowing. I've done all I can and put myself in the best position I could and I've done all the right things and made all the right decisions...but still...I wait.

And that's when it can all fall apart.

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Limbo is a wide-ranging land where hopes and fears collide. In it a father awaits the birth of his child, a mother sits in an emergency room...waiting...waiting for news. A bride awaits word on her soldier-husband. 9/11, and the days after...

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Every patient has been here—the place where you know very little. The place where you need to wait.
You're on a platform, waiting for a train that will come...eventually. And it will take you...somewhere.
You stand there, largely alone, listening for announcements and peering down the track.

You don't know which direction your train will come from...or where it is heading...so you peer into the distance, seeing the track disappear into the grey horizon...

Announcements come. Some are sotto voce...you barely hear them over the heartbeat sounding in your head. Others are barked at the limit of the speaker's volume, assaulting your ears with tinny squawk. Most often, though—and most frightening—the announcements come in languages you've never heard, at times you least expect—and you scramble for understanding.

And you remain on the platform—comfortable or not—watching the distant tracks, waiting...waiting...

And as you stand there you visit Nod, that twilight before sleep, and your brain takes a vacation, allowing your imagination—your inner world—to express itself. And the fears flirt with the fantasies, until you're lost in visions where safety and danger are one and the same. The lion is pet and predator. Lovers become succubi. Enemies...friends. And all the bizarre creations within appear to your mind's eye for you to gaze upon, and consider...

And Limbo is having some version of this happen every minute of every day...with every breath.

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Limbo is not "preoccupied". It's the next stage beyond.

You are preoccupied. You're in Limbo.

Being preoccupied happens, and it goes away. Limbo is a place—a specific state of mind.

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I might have cancer, I might not. At the moment, does it really matter?

--

Where does your mind go? In your quiet moments, where are you? Do you focus on the immediate—the problem in front of you?

Do you trance out, listening to your internal soundtrack? You know, the one your DJ mashes together, with lyrics and tunes blended together, connecting in ways only you can perceive....

Do you fantasize about him/her—that idealized erotic someone with whom you indulge all your naughty and nice?

Do you space out—in that place in-between places, where your mind's eye creates and re-creates visions...and dreams?

What do you do? Some dive headlong into work. Some fret. Others fuck. Still others knit.

Some write or paint or music (I hate "make music" or "play music", why can't "music" be a verb? Writers write, painters paint, musicians...music. See?)

Some smoke or drink. Some cry. Some masturbate.

Others become manically happy. Everyone is different, but at the core we're all doing the same—managing...coping.

Because Limbo is a place where you have no control. And we need control. We seek control. We have control. We control. We influence. We direct. We've got a handle on it. We've got our ducks in a row. It's all lined up. Everything's in its place. We conduct. We arrange. We've got this.

We're delusional.

We think we have influence over things.

And it's a lie.

It's a lie we tell ourselves. It's a lie we believe. It's a lie that becomes truth, until...

Limbo puts two strong hands on either side of your face, holding your head in position—even as you struggle. No matter what you do, you can't move, you can't avert your gaze. You're trapped by its compulsion. It forces you to see those things you don't want to see.

Limbo makes you see with clarity one of life's great truths.

With certainty you see that the only thing you control is...YOU.

And that's the treasure at the heart of Limbo.

In Limbo we stand in stark relief against the chaos of life, and we are humbled.

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There are things you know, and things you don't know, and the places in-between are scary.

Limbo is scary.

And in a twisted way, it's a blessing.

I know what I control and what I don't control.

And that's OK.


And...after a breath—a deep, cleansing breath...it's a relief.

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I might have cancer, I might not.

At the moment, does it really matter?