Thresholds

The year 2020 has been one, giant "in-between" for many of us. Many people feel like life is "on hold" or are waiting to "get back to normal." Whether we are looking forward or looking back, we are basically living on a threshold right now: that small space in an entryway that is neither here nor there.

A few months ago, a friend introduced me to the idea of "liminal space." She sent me this video of Thomas Winninger to explain it:

Mr. Winninger explains that liminal space is "that GAP between things in our life." He goes on to lament that most of us can't live in liminal space and miss out on the gift that it offers. "Maybe liminal space is an opportunity to transform, to become the person you were meant to be..."

Isn't that always the challenge of life? To stay in the present moment. To be here "now." But that moment is so fleeting. How do we even define "now" except to say it's not the past or the present? In reality, all of life is taking place in liminal space.

When we think of that space between where we've been and where we are going, it can feel like kids in the back of a car. "Are we there yet?" People tend to focus on the uncertainty of it all, that feeling of going somewhere and still being stuck. And yet, if we talk about a physical threshold, we see an entryway - a way in or a way out. It is simply something we pass through on our way to where we are going, but if we pause for a moment and really look, then we have the perspective of seeing both in and out, both past and future, and also seeing the frame in which we stand.

Image by Antranias Zimmer by Pixabay

And here is the power of that space between.

A month or so ago (before the fires), I went on a hike with Rich. The path we chose was steep and had a LOT of switchbacks. We brought little fold-up chairs and notebooks in case we found a place to chill. We just wanted to be out in nature instead of cooped up in the house. We walked down a bit, stopping every few minutes to take photos and enjoy the fauna. Eventually, we sat and rested, watching people go by until it was time to leave. The walk down had been easy enough, but the walk back really did me in. By the time we got to the car, I was not feeling well. In fact, it took me over a week to recover. It was quite a setback.

I was quite upset that I had such a strong reaction to the hike. Up until that point, I had thought my vestibular issues and visual issues from the concussion had cleared up. Suddenly, I was thrown back into the fear that this will never end. That I will always be broken, and that nothing works. I was incredibly frustrated as I told my acupuncturist what happened. She, however, was excited.

"You found a new threshold!" she announced. "That's a good thing. It helps you know what to work on next."

That one sentence helped me shift my focus from my feet to my horizon. I could see where I'd been - how much better I am today than when grocery stores set me back for a week. I could see where I was - standing in the middle of my progress. And as I dared to lift my gaze, I could see where I was going - things will keep improving. I will continue to move forward. I am not stuck, I am simply in between. And when I can embrace the process of the in-between, I learn about myself and who I am becoming.

Welcome to my threshold. I hope you will visit often.