I’m in Limbo. Yes, me and the rest of the world.

We’re all in a complete state of pure and utter in-between-ness, stuck in this weird, surreal phase of moving forward and going backwards at the same time – or so it feels.

If there were ever a time for contradictions, apparently this is it.

Life has started to feel a lot like jet lag, some strange way of being that only exists between time zones, punctuated by metaphoric moving walkways, and lots of periods of waiting that all blur into one. 

I’ve been in limbo for some time now, balancing between here, there and everywhere. 

The thing about being in limbo is that while you’re in it, it’s all encompassing. It’s hard to exist without that feeling of displacement.

But when I think of the word itself – limbo – it brings to mind a passing phase, something that comes and goes. But if this quarantine can teach us anything, it’s that it is possible to be in a state of limbo for months – we are all living proof of that. 

Limbo is one of those funny words that sound exactly like what it means. The word itself sounds like a joke – LIM-BO, and this period of quarantine, while anything but funny, has definitely felt absurd in an almost comedic way.

We’ve all become more creative, finding ways to entertain ourselves and stay sane. We’ve all lost it multiple times, too, because is it even possible not to?

And as the world joined forces to fight a pandemic nobody knew existed this time last year, G-d pressed down hard on a huge button up in heaven, with five bold letters printed on it: PAUSE. And so we did. We had no other choice, anyway. 

My life has paused to the extent I was sure it was almost going backwards at times. But there is a safety in predictability. I’ve gotten so used to being home that to venture out feels like a mission sometimes now. And that is just one of the ways I’ve changed.

This period of quiet has made me stop and listen to what I really want in life, and in my career, the stuff that was always there, but didn’t have the space to be listened to. It made me realise I want to be writing more than anything else.

It gave me the time and the space to reconsider my career. And all this happened because I took the time to really dive in and listen. And in the absence of all the noise usually present, I was finally able to pay attention to all the stuff buried below the hustle of life. 

So this limbo period isn’t all bad after all.

Because while I still feel like I’m living in this bizarre timeframe, taking two steps back for every one step forward, it’s been the first time in what feels like forever that I’ve been able to properly practice self care.

And in the quiet of this new life I’m living, I’m actually listening to myself again. And in a way, it kind of makes the whole concept of being in limbo worth it.