Meditation
In posts on the Literary Gastronomy Instagram, I began to introduce applying the concept of liminality and liminal spaces to our individual healing journeys'. This is an idea that came to me after years of teaching literature as a critical component to understanding various aspects of the human condition.
Eventually, after teaching myth and religion, I built a course around magic and the fantastic in story-telling. Through this course, I taught the wisdom of Joseph Campbell’s theory on the hero’s journey. As someone deeply invested in behavioral and relational psychology, I found deep similarities in the story structure of a hero’s journey to concepts like the stages of change and grief. It was through this that I found liminal spaces in these stories to be a key moments for characters growth, often a catalyst for a character’s “leveling up.”
A liminal space can be defined as a threshold, a space between or the precipice of change. This can be a literal space, and/or emotional space, and/or metaphorical. A physical liminal space that is well understood and well known is the wardrobe closet from the Narnia series. These spaces between allow for change and growth---each of the Pevensie children have radical transformations when they move through the wardrobe, from war-torn England to the land of Narnia.
People too often describe airports as liminal spaces, not yet where you are going or where you have been. I think of Spring and Fall as the liminal seasons between the extremes of Summer and Winter. I wrote once: “I prefer the bursting white flowers/ of early spring// to the raw green of summer.” We all feel the peace of these “between” seasons, the thresholds that allow us to prepare for the extreme heat or cold. September begins the liminal season of fall and we all crave the break in the heat—so many memes about pumpkin flavored food and drink, as well as beloved “sweater weather.”
This instinct to crave the liminal seasons as a way to prepare for the extreme of the upcoming season is often lost, so rarely do we apply it our own daily lives. Too often, we jump from moment to moment, adventure to adventure, task to task. We even do this with healing and wellness, tackle one issue only to quickly move on to tackling the next. Do you allow liminal seasons in your life? Do you even allow liminal moments in your day? In other words, do you pay attention to the moments between? Do you allow yourself pause to integrate lessons, to come to fully understand where you were and where you will next move---physically, emotionally, AND metaphorically?
I recently posted a very impromptu reel on IG about the idea of “less.” It seemed to really resonate with the community, so many of you messaged me about needing to "hear this." I am finding that in the wellness space, there is such a large push of “additive.” I do understand why…people in the space believe they have found a *key* to an aspect of healing and they want to share and help others.
Many in this space have wonderful hearts and deeply want to be of service (and we do have to earn a livable wage while doing so). However, so often, before we “add”, we must very seriously slow down and focus on what IS, not what WILL be. Healing begins in the limn, the threshold, the between-ness. You cannot rush this space or you will find yourself back right where you began, like some sort of psychological thriller.
Let's follow the seasons right now…I am going to guess, since this is the human condition after all, that you find yourself needing to honor the liminal space in your life—literally, emotionally, and/or metaphorically. Yet, you feel somehow compelled to move-on to the next, to rush into the “new” state of being. I am going to ask you this month to take the wisdom of the Fall season and slow down. Reflect, pause, simplify. Allow the past to fully integrate, allow your heart to prepare for the future. Where in your life are you being called to pause into the liminality? Let this incredible poem by W.S. Merwin help guide you into how to be fully present in the liminal space and time, noticing what is in this space as fully as you can:
"To the Light of September"
W. S. MERWIN
When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not
and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground
but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later
you
who fly with them
you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night
perfect in the dew
Be good,
Amanda
