Hello Wild Beings of Body, Mind, Heart and Soul-
The month of March in the Northern Hemisphere is the time we welcome spring and the subtle but profound shift from shorter days and longer nights to increasing light and diminishing darkness. The threshold of the Spring Equinox on March 20 has been honored by many traditions as a potent time of rebirth and reflection.
The liminal space between one direction and its seeming opposite is a magical and powerful place…the moment the rushing incoming wave turns and recedes back to the ocean, the time of dusk where day and night co-mingle, the almost imperceptible space between our inhalation and exhalation. These instances invite us to pause and open the space between…between worlds, between words, between thoughts, between inside and outside, between surface reality and deeper reality. The ancients new that these liminal spaces were where we could connect and tend to the deeper pulse of aliveness in ourselves and in all of life.
The ritual of pausing is a simple yet powerful way to acknowledge and open the space of now, as it is always there waiting for us to acknowledge and enter more deeply. It is a way to open and gaze simply and profoundly at the is-ness of being that underlies all the activity of life. All rituals are a beautiful way to pause and take time to acknowledge a shift, a change, a beginning/ending.
Creating our own personal rituals of pausing in our day, week, month, year is a way to become more acquainted with the power of the liminal space and opening up a deeper relationship with time, ourselves, and the world.
- Come in for a Resiliency Session so I can support you in finding the space of wisdom in your body.
- Use the thresholds of your day to open up the spaces of aliveness…before you put your car into drive and get on the road, pause for 30 seconds and look around you and feel the seat and breathe. Acknowledge the journey you are about to take whether short or long, familiar or fresh. Then make your way to your destination. Once there and in park, pause again for 30 seconds and gaze around you, feel your body in the seat and acknowledge your arrival.
- Find your own way to honor the shift in seasons and the change in light. It doesn’t need to be grandiose to be powerful and heartfelt. Create an altar with fresh flowers, water, fire, and stone…offer blessings, thanks and prayers in whatever manner has meaning for you. Consider what has been gestating inside you that is ready to emerge, however slowly, and ask for support and guidance in your unfolding.
- Find a comfortable seat and settle in with your eyes open or closed. After a new moments turn your attention to your breathing and simply notice the natural and spontaneous movement of your inhalation and exhalation. Allow your attention to shift to the liminal space where inhale becomes exhale and exhale becomes inhale. Simply be curious about this moment of change without trying to diminish or accentuate it. Stay here as long as is comfortable then slowly allow your awareness to emerge back into the outer environment.
“At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world, Now I am ready. Now I will stop and be wholly attentive. You empty yourself and wait, listening. After a time you hear it: there is nothing there. There is nothing but those things only, those created objects, discrete, growing or holding, or swaying, being rained on or raining, held, flooding or ebbing, standing, or spread. You feel the world’s word as a tension, a hum, a single chorused note everywhere the same. This is it: this hum is the silence. Nature does utter a peep – just this one. The birds and insects, the meadows and swamps and rivers and stones and mountains and clouds: they all do it; they all don’t do it. There is a vibrancy to the silence, a suppression, as if someone were gagging the world. But you wait, you give your life’s length to listening, and nothing happens. The ice rolls up, the ice rolls back, and still that single note obtains. The tension, or lack of it, is intolerable. The silence is not actually suppression: instead, it is all there is.”
– Annie Dillard
Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters