fort funston beach with gray sky

What is the dream? Whatever it is, it’s way over there.

The things that make our lives are so tenuous, so unlikely, that we barely come into being, barely meet the people we’re meant to love, barely find our way in the woods, barely survive catastrophe every day…

Even decay is a form of transformation into other living things, part of the great rampage of becoming that is also unbecoming.

—Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

I am currently in a liminal space. Another way of saying this might be that I am in a waiting room, or in limbo. I am in a strange world between worlds.

I speak frequently of the folly of making plans; even knowing this, I began to make plans for 2015 in late 2014; and perhaps unsurprisingly, most of those plans have not come to pass. In October I’d already become increasingly physically ill. I reached peak exhaustion at the JFK airport on my way home from speaking at a conference, needed wheelchair assistance, and developed pneumonia later that week, which meant canceling my November speaking gig at the Bullish Conference (registration is open for the 2015 conference). Since then, I’ve hit peak exhaustion a handful of times as the Lyme disease I was diagnosed with in February flares again and again. I do not know what today, tomorrow, or next week will look like. I spend most of every day in bed, which is as glamorous of a situation as I can make it. (I still wear red lipstick. I am wearing, today, a white Edwardian dress over a lace slip.)

So there is that in terms of being held in suspension (in suspense).

There is also the liminal space of a creative expedition and being on the brink of good news, which I have been unable to share because the good news is not yet cemented, and until it is cemented, it remains in a place where it can suddenly shimmer and reveal itself to be a mirage.

Last night I made a list of Things I Have Accomplished in 2015, which is an exercise I recommend if, like me, you have productivity anxiety, but also have the tendency to forget that you’ve actually done anything of note. The Internet is a good place to see others doing remarkable things, and then to compare yourself to those other people—the other people who definitely have their shit together more than you do, are perpetually having five-figure months, and are LIVING THE DREAM. What is the dream? Whatever it is, it’s way over there. The Internet is wonderful, but it is also a finger that prods my various bruises these days. How is it that I’m not LIVING THE DREAM yet? Didn’t I work hard enough? Aren’t I good enough?

(You are. We are.)

A round-up of links to consider while in your own limbo state (or, if you’re on terra firma, congratulations and enjoy):

Esmé