Oh I have so much to write. I want to write about the almost month and a half that everyone was here. There is darkness and the world is filled with so many troubles right now. But there is also light and goodness going on. I want to write about the faces of all the people I love most in the world sitting around my dinner table, siblings one-on-one and the building that went on with that (and oh, the fighting too:), the dishwasher running constantly, the morning exercising all together, the food flying out of the fridge, the work projects done together, the walking dates, the discussions, the love.
And I will write about that soon. Because I want to hold it close. It was golden and my heart was heavy with gratitude every single day for my people.
But time is what I want to write about today. The actual “space” part of it all. The time between life as we knew it and the new life as it is unfolding.
My sister-in-law Anita introduced me to Richard Rohr (he is amazing!), and Richard Rohr introduced me last week to the concept of “liminal space.”
And as I sat on the floor in my bedroom mid-day yesterday trying to meditate a little bit through life, what it means, past and present, and how to use it to my best ability, especially right now, I was so overcome with love for this liminal space we have.
“Liminal space is an inner state and sometimes an outer situation where we can begin to think and act in new ways. It is where we are betwixt and between, having left one room or stage of life but not yet entered the next. We usually enter liminal space when our former way of being is challenged or changed—perhaps when we lose a job or a loved one, during illness, at the birth of a child, or a major relocation. It is a graced time, but often does not feel “graced” in any way. In such space, we are not certain or in control. This global pandemic we now face is an example of an immense, collective liminal space.
—Richard Rohr, Between Two Worlds
“The very vulnerability and openness of liminal space allows room for something genuinely new to happen. We are empty and receptive—erased tablets waiting for new words. Liminal space is where we are most teachable, often because we are most humbled. Liminality keeps us in an ongoing state of shadowboxing instead of ego-confirmation, struggling with the hidden side of things, and calling so-called normalcy into creative question.”
Sunday, April 26, 2020
(Please read the whole “meditation” by clicking HERE, and then read the ones from each day last week (you can use the little arrows at the bottom to scroll to the right to read all about many different aspects of liminal space and it the whole thing is so, so good.)
As I sat there contemplating, the shards of thoughts that have interwoven into the jumbled space we have had here in the midst of this pandemic started to come together. There is so much power in this space. Even the space that is pockmarked with sorrow and loss. We can take the “vulnerability and openness” of it all and create something beautiful. We can start anew and do things differently. But how?
That is what I’m trying to figure out.
I really liked this clip someone sent yesterday:
I am taking time to figure out what my own “Great Realisation” is, and it will take some work. But there is so much to learn and so much growing to do in this rare spot of liminal space.