Pause for a minute, and gaze in amazement at the great migration in the In-Between Place. Everywhere around you, people are fleeing and stumbling as they race to escape the threat of the hanging current moment. Looking within, the various identities you’ve aggregated are also gasping frantically for air as they jump imagined hurdles.
It appears as though we have been routed by a terrible and powerful enemy: uncertainty.
There is no firm ground in the In-Between Place, that’s true. It’s built on the cultural deception that permanence is somehow a prerequisite for happiness. If you worship permanence, every day is either a challenge or something to suffer through. For those in the In-Between Place, this planet and this life are things to be overcome.
But all the self-violence and consumerism is futile, for it’s a stampede away from one ghost and toward another.
The target ideal appears differently depending on your identifications. Perhaps it’s wealth, retirement, a thin body, social acclaim, or Heaven for you. Another person might imagine it as the end of suffering without regard to any other condition. It doesn’t much matter what sort of flower grows from your specific cultural soil – if your eyes are forever looking to that target ideal, you’re in the In-Between Place pursued by and pursuing after phantoms.
Continue your pause. Look down again… this ground is not slimy or gross. It’s simply wet from the rains, and new life is stirring in the mud.
Many people have stopped running. They sit in blissfulness under the dripping branches of elms. Although nothing is certain, that very uncertainty is the adventure of life and the unexpectedness that makes laughter. The sentinel trees don’t seem to mind the changing seasons, either. Why run after the fabled shore when God’s grace swells in the changing tides? Why flee suffering when the flight from suffering is causing you to suffer?
The In-Between Place vanishes when you stop running from it.