We all spend time “between”: between jobs, relationships, meals, hair appointments, books, and the dreaded rock and a hard place, to name a few. These instances are at once before and after, so different from everything else in our life that is either one or the other. There is a guarantee of sorts when between, that the thing that is no more will come again, just in a different form. Grief can still exist over the loss, but there is a unique buffer that something will take its place, and the real possibility that the next version will be as good as or even better than the last.
We all should hold on to this knowledge when we find ourselves between, that the next book we read will take us on the literary ride of our life, that once we extricate ourself from the seemingly impossible spot we are in we will have learned and grown from the experience. That Mr. Right is down the road a bit and it’s for the best that we’ve parted ways with Mr. Right Now.
Between you and me, between is not a bad place to be.
