Suspension

Suspension can be complicated.

On the one hand, it can feel like freedom made real, our limbs dangling weightless in space, no burden to bear, no landing to be stuck, no commitments to be made. The Great Liberation that all wild hearts seek!

On the other hand, it can hold us in a frozen state of not knowing, tendrils of tension that bind us as we grapple with all that we don’t know, can’t know, wish we could know. The Gordian Knot that we endlessly effort to avoid!

Perhaps the question here is about how to hold these two experiences in tandem. Allow them to coexist, even flourish together, one informing the other.

A parlay between opposites that inextricably leads to a decidedly more rich experience, one in which we surrender to the unseen with shoulders dropped, fists unclenched, an even cadence to our breath. Wrapped in a commitment to taking action, looking for the cues that will draw us out of endless freefall.

What if we were to consider this in-between state to be an invitation to shed self-imposed obstruction, long-worn burdens that prevent us from appreciating a spaciousness that provides more room for possibility, the resolution we long for?

What if we were to unshackle ourselves from the strain of not having the answers, give over completely to that amorphous thing called Faith that has the capacity to soothe an unsettled heart, tell us which way is up, even as the world is spinning?

What if we were to use this state of suspension not as one in which we are a puppet being tossed and turned with no agency or force of will, but rather as one in which we marshal the might our senses, allow our steady presence to be the thing that eventually places us kindly, intentionally on solid ground?

So rather than suspension holding us on a leash, a fickle master that decides if we should heel or spin out into oblivion, we sidle up to it as an ally, a layered, complex, wily accomplice in our quest to move ever forward.

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