The Suspension

The calm before the storm.


An apt description,


If not a tad overused.



The moment of suspension


At the top of the hill


Before the plunge


And the thrill of the ride.



The last few seconds of sunset,


Right before the fire disappears


Beyond the horizon,


When you can see it vanish


Before your own eyes.



Watching a cake as it


Slides out of the pan and


Onto the tray,


Hoping –


Praying


That it comes out in one piece.



Sending the email


That you just spent forty-five minutes typing,


And staring at the screen with bated breath,


Wondering when and how


They’ll respond.



Eyes glued to the ball


As it leaves the quarterback’s hands


And sails through the air,


Suspended,


Gliding.


Will he catch it?


Will they score?


Eyes wide,


Chest still,


Anticipating.



A baby walking –


Mostly teetering –


From one parent to another.


Each wobbly step


Taken slowly,


Methodically,


Trying their hardest not to fall,


Until at last,


They fall into their parent’s arms.



The hours,


Or days,


Or weeks,


Following an exam,


Not knowing how you did


Or if you passed


Or if the results come back


The way you hope.



The days,


Or weeks,


Or months,


After you order something –


Something so exciting that you check the mailbox


Every day in anticipation,


Eager for its awaited arrival.



The jump from a


Cliff


Into the clear blue water below


When your heart stops beating


And is hovering in your chest


While you’re hovering in midair


For the longest few seconds of your life


Before you plunge


Into the water.



Waiting.



Waiting.



The ultimate test of presence.



The magic that seems to slow time.



Sometimes pleasant.


Sometimes agonizing.



Sometimes it seems to pay off.


Sometimes it feels like a frustrating waste.



Regardless of


How it feels


Or what the outcome


Proves to be,


All waiting has


One thing


In common:



Powerlessness.



The period between the


Final step


And the end result,


Where there is


Nothing


More to be done.


No action to take.


No updates


Or edits


Or final touches.


Nothing.



Just waiting.



Everything feels like it’s


Hanging in the balance.


Like my body is suspended


In midair,


Back foot leaping off the ledge


Yet front foot hasn’t touched down yet.


Just floating.


Wondering if I’ll land


On the other side.



Only time will tell.


… … …


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Photo credit: Jordan Donaldson | @jordi.d from Unsplash