There’s a little spot in the middle. Not quite here - not quite there. It doesn’t have a name. And because there isn’t a well known label for that spot, it often gets ignored. I am a big fan of categorizing things. I love naming and knowing. Declaring something as this, and not that somehow gives me order and calm. But I’d like to take the time to honor the in-between.
Life does not always provide a simple choice of one or the other. This is where we ask questions and often times the answers will reveal themselves if we can just sit tight. The in-between can be uncomfortable, right? Limbo is not just a game we played at childhood birthday parties showing off the flexibility in our backs. Limbo is navigating the edges. This is the place where the lessons live. We learn patience. We cultivate stillness. Our strength shows up, our will is tested, our intentions are clarified, and we develop the ability to allow life to unfold. All of this actually expands us and moves us forward into the next experience. The in-between is really just an opportunity to look forward and prepare for the good stuff.
Failure — success.
Broken — healed.
Asleep — awake.
Sad — happy.
Falling — flying.
Unhealthy — healthy.
Friendship — love.
Doubt — faith.
No — yes.
Winter — Spring.
Okay, so that last one is where I’m really going with this. It’s not quite Spring here on the East Coast. Or maybe it is, but our childhood memories and wildest fantasies of Spring include turning off the heat, putting the hats and scarves away, and admiring the blooms. Spring should be dining al fresco on the new season’s bounty from the farmers’ markets, meeting friends for sunshiny picnics, sleeping with the windows open, and puddle jumping in the warm cleansing Spring rains. Aside from the pictures of these flowers I captured, none of those activities have really happened.
Those flowers don’t seem to mind though. They’re acting as if Spring is awakening in perfect timing and they showed up to do their job anyway. Now there’s a lesson: when things don’t seem to be going as planned and we find ourselves in between where we were and where we want to be, act as if everything is happening according to plan and show up and do your job anyway.
The in-between won’t last forever, it will dissolve away and create some new place. The new place may not be what we expected or even hoped for. But it will be new. And there’s promise in new. There’s hope. The world keeps turning, the sun keeps rising and setting, and our cells keep changing.
This is one of my favorite Spring time soups because it is typically my first chilled soup of the season. It hasn't quite been chilled soup weather, so I’ve been eating it warm and it is just as tasty. This soup is helping me with the in-between of the seasons. The color is like a big promising sun. I couldn’t even disturb its perfect orange beauty with a garnish of chopped green herbs. I left it plain and enjoyed its glow.
Carrot, Orange, Ginger Soup
- 4 T butter
- 2 cups finely chopped onion
- 12 lg carrots, peeled and chopped
- 1 T turmeric
- 3 1/2 cups veggie broth or chicken stock
- 1 tablespoon grated ginger
- 1 1/2 cup orange juice and zest of one orange
- 1/2 cup ginger ale
- salt and pepper
- chopped cilantro or mint for garnish
Melt butter in a pot, add onions and carrots, and let soften over medium heat for 15 minutes. Add turmeric and stir to coat the vegetables. Add broth and ginger, bring to boil. Reduce heat, simmer for 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Puree with a stick blender or in regular blender in batches. Add juice, zest, and ginger ale. Add a little more broth/juice/ginger ale if it is too thick. Stir, and top with herbs. It is delicious cold or hot.