A good friend just moved to Scotland. My monthly dancing ‘date’ in fact.
As I thought about her during the weekend of her trans-Atlantic move and pondered heading out to the dance floor on my own, I wondered about in-between time.
During a big move there’s a time when one has no electronic connections. Land line has been cut. Cell phone has been cut. Work phone line is no more.
No time yet for new lines.
What tethers us to the old hasn’t yet been replaced by the roots of the new. We’re free to wander in the in-between.
Kind of like the in-between time about now, when it’s almost the New Year but not quite.
What grows in the in-between time? I like to think that moments of magic grow there. How about you?
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