In Between World

Image courtesy of PicsArt and me

There are so many facets to humans “being”. The many layers of existing makes for a complex life at times. The physical place where we dwell is the easy part of who we are on this planet, in this galaxy, this world, this universe. There is no “in between” here in this realm. Either you’re here or you’re not. But, that existence leads to the question, “What form are you in, dead or alive?”. Flesh and blood breathing above ground or rotting dust melding with the earth below. Again, more layers.

Then there’s existence on another plane. In this one, the complex one, life is that of the intangibles. You can’t taste it, touch it or feel it with your carnal senses. However, you can sense it. You can feel it. It’s so complex that we need other people – other humans also attempting to be – to help us navigate through the comprehension of ourselves. That’s a trip. How can you, another composition of dust help like creatures through something you’ve only read about over a course of seven years? And someone had to teach you that. And who taught them? That’s for another blog; or not. I have yet to decide. The layers in this existence far exceed any rational explanations conjured up by intellectuals. There are moods not caused by hormonal influences, attitudes derived from some nebulous place other than past experiences, hunches of unachieved greatness yet to be attained and the list of the unreachable goes on and on. More layers indeed.

And if that weren’t enough to grasp, there’s yet another even more, dare I say, complex level of existence to “being”. The unscripted part. The unspoken part. The part without beginning or end. The eternal part. There’s not enough blog space to discuss this portion. It’s too vast a topic to continue. Words merely scratch the surface of this place. This, this other worldly habitation. This not quite over here and not quite over there kinda place. One day (time is only a gauge not a catalyst in this realm) the world leans in to heed every demand. Other times it turns a deaf ear and a blind eye to the faintest request. Oh what a cruel existence this plane yields. Yet, I’m somewhere, in between.

dorothy’s page © 2018 Dorothy E. Young

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