The Space Between Who I Was and Who I Am

There comes a strange season. Not of crisis, not of clarity, but of in-between.

Where the old no longer fits and the new hasn’t yet found shape.

Where the familiar comforts feel empty and silence becomes louder than sound.

It is not depression. It is not awakening.

It is the quiet dissolution of identity.

When the masks once worn with ease begin to slip. When ambitions feel like echoes, and laughter leaves no aftertaste, the question rises:

If I am not who I was…

and not yet who I am becoming…

what, then, am I now?

Buddhist text, from the Lankavatara Sutra says,

“Things are not what they appear to be, nor are they otherwise.”

Let that linger.

You are not just the story you’ve outgrown. But you’re also not the one waiting to replace it.

You are the space between. Unformed, unseen, aware.

they tried to define themselves,

by memories,

by mirrors,

by meaning,

but each reflection distorted,

each role ran its course,

they stood one day,

in the hallway between selves,

where no name fit,

and no goal pulled,

there, in that liminal hush,

they did not dissolve,

they did not arrive,

they simply remained,

not as someone,

but as presence itself,

a breath,

not taken,

but noticed.

You are not meant to rush this season.

There is wisdom in the void, beauty in the becoming, but even more in the pause before both.

You are not unfinished.

You are unlayering.

If something softened in you after reading this, echo it back:

a word, a breath, a moment of pause.

No need to explain. Just let what stirred… stay.

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© 2025 Beyond Silence.

A note from the listening silence. Please credit respectfully if shared.