Today is Liminal Saturday, the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Liminal refers to an in-between state, as in: Jesus sat around on Liminal Saturday since there wasn't much to do between crucifixion and the egg hunt.
I've been feeling in-between myself lately. There's dual fear and complacency that results in a kind of existential aimlessness. It is an unfamiliar psychic space for me. I've lost the thread of the wild creative schemes and urgent obsessions that have characterized my life for the last five years or so. The past and the future have collapsed into an ok-for-now present. Is this what they call aging?
Still, I look around and I see people doing everything in their power to not decide what life is for and how it should be lived. It's all just busy busy busy, and then you die. Given that, I can really admire a guy like Jesus who dedicated himself to articulating meaning and grand plans for living. My admiration falls short of taking up my own messianic complex at present. Napping seems more honest.