What Is It About Hanging In There?

What is it about "hanging in there" that makes it uncomfortable for most people to do? Is it a matter of staying long down on your knees with your eyes closed? Or is transfixing it upon a cross better? Is it a matter of sitting still on an uncomfortable couch and chasing the queasiness away by reading an entertaining book?

Everybody seems to have their own way of "hanging in there". Mine seems to happen mostly by sitting behind my Macbook screen and letting my fingers punch the keys till kingdom come. Not so much to interact with anybody but mostly to try and figure out what is it that makes "hanging in there" such a toil.

I don't know what it is. There are no clear answers. But the point is, you just do it. Sometimes "hanging in there" is allowing yourself to crumble and still keep your heart beating inside. Sometimes "hanging in there" is just driving past passerbys who need a ride.

I don't know what it is. There are no clear answers. And sometimes there aren't even any words to describe what it is like to really "hang in there". But for some reason, I found breathing space from the cycling of thoughts in this picture by Adi early this morning. It's a picture of her sister holding a cross. Juxtaposed with her shadow behind her.


What is there about light and shade that reminds me of the one thing constant in life.? The dance between joy and pain. I like how the natural lighting of this photograph puts just a faint glow upon Liana's left shoulder. I like how it is not so bright and not so faint. It's a beckoning kind of hue that says, "It's warm here, come in from the cold."

I like how her grasp is so certain upon that cross. In some kind of standstill between the interplay of light and shade, there is still one thing absolute. In the dance between joy and pain, there is one thing absolute. They are moments. They are circumstances. That change frequency and intensity depending on how near or far you are from the Maker of all these.