the Dark Gate, the Point of No Return

Ah, the Liminal Space.

The place we like to wax poetic about, yet desperately try to claw our way out as quickly as possible once we find ourselves there.

 

We like to romanticize change as if we enjoy the process of moving through the Dark Gate.

We don’t.

We just like the fantasy of the “other side” of the fence we believe will make our lives better, improved, more shiny, allowing us an escape from our current reality.

 

Like death and grief in our culture, we have little context, language, and spaces to talk about what it is to actually go through Big Change.

And like death, there you will most certainly find grief, relief, overwhelm, emptiness, confusion, elation, and many many more unprocessed and undigested thoughts and feelings, doubts and joys.

 

I feel like I’ve written and talked about this in between worlds place more times I can remember, but each time I myself find myself moving through it, I feel like I learn something else – and forget how strange this process really can be.

 

It starts with a decision, doesn’t it.

Usually after a lot of overthinking, the decision comes, sometimes naturally, often inevitably. Sometimes we ignore all of the signs, clinging to the familiar with every sliver of a thread we can hold onto. Sometimes we just leap, without thinking too much about it.

Although one seems like a more fearful approach than the other, I can assure you, fear is always at the heels of “The Decision” no matter how it unravels in the external.

It’s human nature to fear change so we don’t do it willingly.

Resistance is normal, natural, and inevitable.

After all, we are not the rational beings we’d like to think we are.

 

After the decision, there are the small – and big – actions that follow.

Actually packing my things into boxes.

My last surf session on my longboard.

My last surf session at my home break.

The moment the movers load my stuff into the truck (it goes so much faster than I thought it would … why did it feel so fast?).

The relief knowing that thing is ticked off the Big List of Things to Do.

The anxiety in knowing the inevitable is coming.

Flights.

Paperwork.

Immigration.

Landing.

More flights.

More paperwork.

Waiting.

Endless waiting.

 

Then inevitably, arrival.

But arrival to where?

I have happened to arrive to the Liminal.

Each step from The Decision, each small task, bringing me closer to the Dark Gate – the Point of No Return.

I’m here now.

I’ve arrived.

But now what?

 

With no tasks to busy myself with …

With no familiar routine …

With the familiar and yet the unfamiliar …

My emotions slowly catching up to me …

My body slowly sinking into landing in this foreign home land …

Familiar and yet unfamiliar …

The urge to cling, stronger than ever, yet nothing more to cling to …

The juxtaposition of both tension and relief in my system …

The urge to do, with nothing to do …

 

Whatever it is, The Big Change won’t solve our problems – yours nor mine.

That’s not the point of it, let’s be clear about that, shall we?

Change isn’t about solving our current problems to a brighter, shinier, better, new and improved fantasy future.

If we buy into this fantasy, we are setting ourselves up for disappointment and we are missing a huge opportunity at the same time.

 

Without cultural context of the Liminal Space, we might miss the gifts the in between brings.

It is both terrifying, and yet a kind of soft landing.

It is both nothingness and the soil where we can plant the seeds of our potential.

It’s the fallow fields, resting so that a more nourishing soil can feed our hopes, our dreams, our goals.

It’s the time we need to process what just happened over the last few months.

It’s rest and digest.

It’s an invitation to both unravel old ways of being and try of new ones, not yet needing to commit to or decide on what is the future path …

 

It’s called the Dark Gate, because it’s the place of gestation – the proverbial womb.

It’s both nothingness and the cosmic soup that creates anything and all.

No matter how beautiful, no matter how positive the gate of change can be, it is always met with the paradox of being human.

It is both grief and joy.

Always both and.

In our culture, we are taught to hinge everything on the future – always looking forward, never looking back.

We lack the necessary context to talk about the inevitable loss and grief that comes with even the most positive and joyous change.

We miss aspects of our past selves, even if we intellectually or spiritual recognize we are evolving and growing – we still need to acknowledge these past layers as they live alive and well within our present self and experience every day.

 

I was thinking to what are the things that help to support me in my own experience in sitting in the liminal?

 

Ritual.

Ritual is such an important element and support for our human existence.

It’s important to remember that ritual doesn’t have to be some elaborate ceremony with candles and incense and chanting and altars. It is really just as simple as brushing our teeth.

For me, it might be picking a beautiful spot in the morning to drink my coffee, read a book, or perhaps pull a few tarot cards and journal a bit. It might be a meditation. Sometimes and often, it’s my simple skincare routine and getting dressed or undressed.

The real purpose of ritual is simply an honouring, intention, and being present. It could be as simple as drinking your tea while listening to your favourite podcast or favourite song from when you were a teen.

It’s purpose isn’t to create routine or any other ridged form.

Ritual is about simply anchoring us to our own inner resource – reconnecting us to source through the human pathways of beingness.

 

Creating space and time for being in the Liminal.

This can be part of my rituals. For me, this often looks like writing, going for walks, or simply watching the wind blow through the trees for a while. Sometimes it’s meditation, or a bit of stretching or a nice foot massage before bed. The point is that much like ritual it’s simply letting yourself have time to putter about in the Liminal space – the right here, right nowness of where we’re at – without trying to rush out of it or avoid the feelings of it.

 

Beginner’s mind.

This is a place I try to cultivate my relationship with always, but I find it is particularly helpful when I am in the place of transition.

The human mind constantly wants to busy itself, distract itself, and worries incessantly. It’s nature is to cling to the familiar and with that carries the multiple loads of baggage of our life experiences – for better or for worse.

The idea is not to jettison (or “let go”) of our past experience, but to make sure to bring our curiosity along with it. This is the practical approach to “mindfulness”. When the echo chamber of worry has nothing but constant internal and external validation, we tend to feel a little kookoo and out of sorts and really really not ok, however when we have a healthy relationship with our inner innocence, the healed inner child, curiosity, it helps to bring balance and context to the inner conversation.

This is where “ah-ha” moments are born.

The “what if this isn’t what it appears to be?” “what if I’m filtering all of this through the lens of my culture, of society, etc.?” “would it still feel true or real?”.

Cultivating my relationship with beginner’s mind gives me options that I didn’t see were available to me through my lens of worry, anxiety, and self-judgement.

 

Self-compassion.

What if you brought the same level of compassion and understanding to yourself as you likely do for others and strangers?

The truth is, we tend to more easily give the benefit of the doubt to others, meanwhile we beat up ourselves for having “should have known” something we couldn’t have known.

Along this theme, little known facts that bust some cultural myths:

• It’s never too late
• You’re never too old
• It’s ok to change your mind
• It’s ok to be unsure or not really know
• It’s ok to be wrong
• Being older does not automatically make someone wiser or more emotionally mature
• It’s ok to start again from the very beginning
• You are not alone if you are starting over in your 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, beyond
• You are not along or the “only one” in anything
• It’s ok to make mistakes

It’s important to understand what we’re going through in a greater context. We are not alone in what we are feeling. We are not wrong for making mistakes, experimenting, and things not working out perfectly or as we initially imagined.

How easily can we forgive ourselves for our decisions, actions, past and future?

 

Once we pass the Point of No Return, it’s normal to feel unmoored, a bit lost, and also … a bit euphoric.

For me, these elements have helped me to stay grounded in myself, and yet flexible and tender, like a new shoot or leaf.

May they also be nourishing and helpful to you.

 

On that note, that’s all for now.

Until we meet again, blessings and love,

Jenn