As a mom, I spend so much time looking for things that my children have misplaced. Of course, during my search, I also spend a lot of time lecturing them on how they wouldn’t constantly lose things if they would just put things where they belong. I keep hoping and praying the day when they place things where they belong will arrive soon, and my days of searching the house top to bottom will come to an end. Funny thing is, we recently had the opportunity to spend the weekend with some friends of ours. They are both adults, empty nesters actually, so they’ve raised their kids and probably spent countless hours searching for missing items too. Well, at least one of them I’m sure did. The other I’m not so sure about after we spent a good thirty to forty minutes searching the condo for his wallet. We were only there for the weekend, we didn’t bring a ton of stuff with us. We spent most of our days at the beach. It shouldn’t have been too difficult to find his wallet. I held back from giving my usual speech while four adults and two children split up, covering all rooms, including beach bags, kitchen cabinets, ice chests, and even the trash can. You never know right? Well, it wasn’t in the trash can. It was in his brief case. The entire time, his wallet sat in a place where you would think it belonged…inside his briefcase. However, precariously hovering over two compartments, it wasn’t completely in a pocket. Technically, it didn’t really belong there. He had checked his brief case a few times and hadn’t seen it. The wallet, being the same color as the bag, blended into the inside fabric. Upon first glance, it wasn’t noticeable. Upon further inspection, it really stood out.
In my current stage of life, I am that wallet hovering between two places in my life. Our family has been “temporarily” living in Puerto Rico for almost five years. We live in a furnished place surrounded by other people’s stuff. It’s a nice place. The weather is divine. We’ve made lifelong friends. Do we belong here? It doesn’t completely feel like it. During the holidays, we head back to our house in Texas. It’s a nice place. There, we are surrounded by our stuff and lifelong friends too. Do we belong there? It doesn’t completely feel like it. It has nothing to do with things, friends, or location. We are always happy to arrive at either place. We are always happy to catch up with our friends once again. At first glance, much like the wallet, we look like we belong.
The truth is we live in a state of limbo…not the fun kind, where you dance under a stick, usually at an event where the alcohol has been flowing freely. Our limbo is the kind where we are pulled in two separate directions, more like the old Stretch Armstrong I was always stealing from my brother when I was a kid. Sorry Stretch! These days I feel your pain!
The thing about limbo is you have to keep hovering, maintaining that balance because you don’t have the luxury of leaning too far in either direction. So, you go with the flow, enjoy your time in both states, and hope you don’t stretch out so much that you are never the same again.
Is there an aspect of your life that is currently in limbo?