Goodness, the universe delivered this weekend.
There was live music and laughter, friendship, wisdom, genuine conversation, sunsets and of course, this unreal mild October weather with perhaps the most colorful autumn foliage I can recall in recent history. So much that filled me with joy and gratitude.
Last week I wrote about life hardship. I don’t regret my words, because they were real and raw, and I think transparency is a gift, to both give and receive.
But it also was received as heavy by some. So today I give you the evolution of my words: from crisis to transition.
Really, I, like many, am in a liminal space, a relatively obscure Latin phrase thrust upon us in 2020 like a... well, a pandemic. It’s literally the space between what “was” and what is “next.” A life threshold of sorts.
Richard Rohr explains further … “A liminal space is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else. It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.”
This space feels uncomfortable, my purpose and identity were firm in my past. While losing any structure or comfort can cause immense grief, it’s also a place of genuine newness, untapped opportunity. The time between time can feel paralyzing in a world like mine that’s very unused to it.
But I’m still good too. I’m still me, still resilient. I’m challenging myself to embrace the unknown, the lessons, the dreams. Rest assured, I’m taking the liminal space for what it is, an opportunity to really notice the autumn colors and sandy toes right in front of me. It’s not all peachy everyday, no. But it’s untapped, an invitation to discover. I find few things more encouraging than that.
