Point B

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When I was a kid, one of my favourite plot points in the original Star Trek was when they used the transporter: "Beam me up, Scotty." 

That sci-fi technology was a seed-starter in my childhood imagination's soil. Nearly 50 years later, I still yearn for the experience of teleporting from one location to another. Don't we all? It would be so damned convenient and save so much precious time. 

But now, at this oldish man life stage, I think about something else: the disassembling and reassembling aspect of the transporter—the weightless notion that in seconds I could become pixels, disappear, and then reappear in a better future without even a nod to that in-between space—a complete escape. 

Older now, I know this in-between space all too well, this liminal space, this threshold between past and future—it is not weightless and it won't be ignored. Unlike Star Trek, life affords few effortless escapes. A guy can get stuck in between.  

Sure, sometimes we might not even attend to this in-between space, might not even notice it, or conversely, consciously court the in-between to help us live in the present, ignoring past troubles and future worries. But let's be honest: we grown humans struggle to live in the present.  

Unlike Star Trek, in between life's point A and point B there is lots of waiting, wishing, and wondering. Transitions can be hell. And what's disassembled at A is never quite reassembled so well by the time we reach B. If you've ever had to put down a pet you know what I mean and there are 100 other just-have-to-get-through-it-experiences. 

Although everyday life has little in common with Star Trek's idealistic transporter, dear friends, please hang on: perhaps Point B is out there, somewhere?