"Things aren't always what they seem in this place."

I remember that line from one of my all time favorite movies, Labyrinth. Remember that one? David Bowie and his potato pants? Hoggle and his fascination with jewelry and plastic? The bog of eternal stench? Ludo calling the rocks? God, I loved that movie. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve watched it and now, writing about it, I want to watch it all over again. Maybe tonight…

But I digress. I remember the little worm telling Sarah that straight in front of her was a secret passage. I remember Sarah’s disbelief because it was just a wall. Just like every other wall she had passed since her entrance into the labyrinth. And I remember that worm saying to Sarah, “things aren’t always what they seem in this place.”

Today I feel like Sarah, staring at a wall. A wall I’ve been looking at for months now, the scene never changing, the wall never morphing. And I hear Sarah’s voice, sounding a lot like my own, saying,

“There’s no way out. It’s just a wall.”

“Things aren’t always what they seem around this place. Can’t take anything for granted.”

It took a leap of faith for Sarah to press against the wall, it’s grey (fine, fine…American spell check… GRAY! Okay?) exterior never changed, it’s hard stone never softened, it’s appearance remained the same as she pressed against it and discovered that the hidden passages behind it. The worm hadn’t been wrong, hadn’t been lying. Behind the wall, identical to the others she had passed while running along the corridor, existed something beyond her imagination.

This morning, I am Sarah, wondering where to press.

This seems to be the way things go for Don and I, doesn’t it? When we are smack dab in the middle of something that feels distinctly like a shift, we falter and resign ourselves to an indefinite amount of time and a plan with no clear direction, no smooth talking from the GPS lady about which way to proceed. Nothing is as it seems and we sit back and have a cry out of frustration and lonesomeness and the unfairness of it all and then tell one another to “roll with it”…what we have is not so bad…and we have time. Lots and lots of time for the pieces to fall into place.

And things settle down a little bit. And there is a certain amount of comfort in knowing what the next day will bring, even though neither one of us is good at admitting that to the other.

And then…

BANG!

What felt like comfort and familiarity and quiet passivity turns out to be a huge shift. And it makes me wonder if I’ve gotten too good at grounding myself. So good that I don’t even feel the shifts anymore. Or maybe it’s Don’s lifetime of feeling the earth move beneath him, losing his stance and falling, literally, to the ground that’s done it. Maybe he’s too used to feeling the ground shake and quickly grabbing onto something…anything…for support to avoid the fall. Maybe he’s gotten too used to being prepared, constantly, to cushion himself against the concrete.

I’m not sure.

We both thought we were in limbo.

Turns out we’re not. Turns out we’re actually in the final stages. It’s just that it’s nothing like how we pictured it. It’s not the way we planned. You’d think we’d catch on by now, wouldn’t you?!

Nothing is as it seems in this place.

Once Sarah pressed against the wall and discovered the secret passage, she turned to thank the worm and make her way through the wall, choosing…I’m not entirely sure…right, I think. And the worm yelled out a word of caution to

“Don’t go that way! Never go that way!”

And Sarah thanked the worm again and headed for left, not realizing that she had actually just taken a wrong turn. Had she stuck with her original choice, she would have headed straight for the castle and Jared and her baby brother, destined to be turned into a goblin (okay, yeah, I totally have to watch that movie again tonight…).

She would have been on her way…the quickest route possible…

I’m pressing, hesitantly, against our thick, grey wall…excited and scared…and hoping I don’t take a wrong turn.