Liminal Spaces

“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, because we are most humbled.”              Richard Rohr

We are living in that space between the known and the not yet known. We have been forced into this space by “Rona”, as my niece labels the Novel Coronavirus. Forced sequestering separates us from the people, patterns, and practices that have defined and structured our lives.  Before “Rona”, we moved around in these unnamed, yet predictable patterns with only a vague awareness of the sweet security they offered us.

Who knew we would come to crave a simple trip to the grocery store. Roaming the isles, handling produce, checking for blemishes, deciding between organic and non-organic. Speaking to friends, without regard for the distance between us.

Who knew we would come to consider ourselves and others as agents of mass destruction? And, the convivial dinners and gatherings would be prohibited.

Towns would become ghost towns as businesses closed and livelihoods began to dry up on the vine. Children are at home instead of the schools that teach and train them, providing intellectual and physical stimulus for their learning and growth.

Who knew?

Who knew that the important relationships of our lives would be interrupted by new rules of engagement, geared more towards safety than support. We face-time and zoom and enjoy those connections. Yet, something deep inside longs for the “real thing”. The hugs, embraces, and that invisible energy field that occurs when we are together in body as well as spirit.

If you are like me, you likely entered into this crisis time with a sense of optimism. Aware of the gifts of sequestered time to engage in things you love. For me, those were reading, writing, and spiritual contemplation. Daily walks in the Georgia Springtime, which finally opened up to include dear friends, 6’ away and masked. Phone chats with friends and family. And, chores delayed but satisfying. Cleaning out and organizing closets, pantries, and the proverbial “sock drawer”. All the while, clearing my mind as well.

And, if you’re like me. Some of that lost its luster after a while and quietly morphed from a hidden treasure to a vague sense of strangeness-uninspired ennui.

I straddle the abyss of sequestration with one foot firmly grounded in gratitude that I can continue the work I love from home, “seeing” valued clients via video-conferencing and phone.

Yet, the other foot is painfully aware of the millions whose jobs are lost or put on hold. Who can’t shift into a new way of working. Income is lost. Survival stresses accompany relational ones as we linger longer sheltering at home. For many, the homes in which they shelter are now in jeopardy.

We live in a twilight zone of existential shifting. The world as we knew it is upside down. And, the new order is still a distant shore.

“We are…betwixt and between. In that space-which is mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual-we are destabilized and disoriented. The old touchstones, habits, and comforts are now past, the future unknown.”     Richard Rohr.

This new and yet to be formed space is foreign, unfamiliar, and terribly uncomfortable. Paradoxically, as we are untethered from our old moorings, floating in a sea of confusion, something deep within us is wired with the capacity to vision anew. In our lostness, something calls to be found.

Believing this to be true, I am still left with the question; “How do we tolerate this disequilibrium while our ideas of new  normal gestate?”

“What are we to do in such a threshold moment? In moments of transition, we are simply to be. We are to pause and acknowledge that a transition is taking place. Instead of seeking to abruptly pass through a threshold, we are to tarry…A new reality is emerging, but we cannot see beyond the threshold. All we know is that we live in this moment-where everything is in transition. We may experience a new way of being, but we cannot yet sense what it will look like.”   Rohr

When I consider the possibilities for genuine transformation that this abrupt halt to normal activity might offer, I find myself getting curious about what might be waiting in the wings to emerge in my own life and growth. Though some stubborn part of me still longs with unrealistic desire for life to “return to normal”; in truth, it won’t. Instead, a new normal will emerge in our lives, our country and the world. Admittedly, it requires discipline to wait. Yet, in our waiting we can cultivate attitudes of hope and curiosity about new potentials.

If we all embrace this difficult transitional time with an openness to the highest and best longing to be expressed, perhaps we can actively participate in shaping the new normal that will be be birthed out of this crazy Corona crisis. True transformation requires time and patience. Babies remain in the womb for nine months with good reason. Likewise, this liminal space requires its own time, if it is to birth something of value.

I am reminded of the words of T. S. Eliot:

“I said to my soul, be still, and wait…..

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”

Let us not miss the gifts of this sequestered season. Instead, let’s still ourselves and listen to the sounds of silence that may have within it the vision of new birth. Of potential. Of deeper, wiser, more compassionate selves waiting in the wings for their turn.

And, may we wait together, even when we are alone.