You’re in a state of desperation. Panic. Depression. You can’t think straight let alone act. “What am I supposed to do now?” you ask. Easy answers are insulting, save this one: Do the next thing. …


You’re in a state of desperation. Panic. Depression. You can’t think straight let alone act. “What am I supposed to do now?” you ask. Easy answers are insulting, save this one: Do the next thing. …

Are you in that place between what was and what will be? This is liminal space — a season of waiting without knowing — and it’s ripe with ambiguity.