I feel like a goose on thin ice, we say, when you are out of your natural habitat and can’t find your way out of a deadlock. I stay where I am because I have no other choice. I would have never thought, that one day I would write that down. I have left something behind I don’t wish to turn back to and what is ahead of me is not close enough to reach. I am no man’s land. As if I was not even here at all. Days pass without any change but the seasons. My existence here is hardly noticeable besides the hundreds of application forms I send out daily, in vain. As if on an extended (and kind of unwanted) break, or on a deserted island of my own creation, I hang in the void.
Part of me is worried because lack of resources available in my desertion. Another part of me is stagnant. And another is just is.
In my meditation, I saw a tree with broken branches today and I saw myself inside one of the branches that was cut off, one that did not lead up towards the skies but was cut short, and dying.
What is the next step?