How to work with the space in-between
Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. -- Blaise Pascal
For as long as I can remember, this has been one of my most favorite weeks of the year.
I just love the in between.
The year ahead with all its potential. But not yet begun, so no pressure to make anything happen just yet.
Turning a new page on the year behind. Whatever worked, or didn’t, it’s in the past now and we get a fresh start, a new chance.
This year, this week before the New Year has even more “in between-ness.”
Most obvious:
We are at the threshold of vaccine-times – when there is a reliable way to protect ourselves and loved ones from Covid-19.
We are awaiting the inauguration of a new President.
What will these new beginnings usher in? What promises will they deliver? What difficulties will remain? What will we want to fight for and hold dear in the year ahead?
These are liminal spaces we are in. They are a kind of crossing over, threshold moments.
We are leaving something behind but we are not yet fully in something else.
It’s not unusual to find all this transition time to be a little itchy or restless.
For one, the future is unknown. There will certainly be fresh, new disappointments along with exciting new possibilities. The uncertainty may make you squirm.
Plus, you may be used to the hustle and bustle of reacting to or striving for. The liminal space doesn’t offer a lot to push or pull against. Maybe you find yourself looking for resistance, or even creating it?
And you may not be ready to say goodbye to the past. If you have unfinished business of the heart to tend to (e.g. grief, anger, longing, desire) you may feel tethered, not yet ready to move on.
Liminal spaces occur because of external circumstances (the calendar, the election, the virus/vaccine) but they also can be created when we are undergoing major internal transitions.
Either way, there is pure magic in the falling away of what we used to know and the beginning of something we don’t yet fully comprehend.
I like to imagine that these are precious days when the best thing to do is let the path appear before you. It’s not as though we’ll get a detailed map of the future, but surrender to the lack of stimulus and just allow for a bit.
Allowing doesn’t need to mean navel gazing. Although…that’s pretty good if you can manage it.
Play Yahtzee, do the dishes, cook, take walks, read books, go to work. And pay attention.
Watch for the subtle signals arising before you. See if you can feel the difference between acting from a place of inspiration rather than a habitual rush to fill a void.
I love you all,
Marijke Ocean Joy