Threshold
Archetype
Dear, Reader.
It’s a cold Saturday evening as I sit down to write this post and it’s already dark outside. The room I’m in is colder than the rest of the house, thanks to the glass doors behind me that make up one wall, and I tuck my legs further under the old pink embroidered tapestry covering my desk and pull the table lamp closer as though its circle of yellow light can warm me. I’ve pushed away my laptop and I’m using the dot grid journal, the one I use for my Morning Pages, to physically write out the post. (I haven’t been able to write and I’m trying to coax the words out even as I berate them for being so difficult.) The house is quiet, even the refrigerator is silent, and I can hear the pen moving on the page as I try to make sense of everything through writing it out.
The thing is I’m at the tail end of a few long journeys, 29-years, 35-years, and even a 45 or 46-years1 long one, journeys whose endings are apparently all coinciding. These were long journeys (45 years!). They were powerful. And, they did that magic, where the change, while appearing to happen out there in the world, repeatedly led me further inward. I caught a glimpse of an inner home, and fleetingly understood what it means to come home to yourself, and to do so repeatedly. It was as though, with each year, and each new change, I opened a new door and entered a new chamber within this inner home. That sounds so beautiful, I think now to myself, pausing in my writing, even though in the moment, the changes were disorienting, confusing, and very challenging. Please take my word for it that the specifics of my journeys don’t matter because the truth is we all experience them, albeit they look different for each one of us. Rainer Maria Rilke, as always, was right: “The only journey is the one within.”
So, I am at the end of a few old journeys and the new ones haven’t started yet. Which means I’m in a kind of transition zone, a threshold. If you’ve been reading my work for a while, you know I’m fascinated with thresholds. Thresholds are these weird spaces or stretches of time where both the past and the future coexist. We can think of thresholds as life’s waiting rooms, but they are not passive places. Think of the months before you start college, or before graduation or retirement- you are already changing, you know you are, and yet, there is also the comfort of staying with the familiar. You want to stay there even though you vaguely feel/know it’s time to go (grow!).
In any new journey, there is a threshold-a line, a border or edge, a gate, a doorway, a bridge, a passageway, a span of time, or set of behaviors- that lies between the old, familiar, known world and the new, unknown world. Because thresholds are the first step into the unknown, they can evoke fear, doubt and anxiety.
Whether thresholds are physical spaces or measured in time or behaviors, they are liminal (Latin ‘limen’ or ‘limin’=threshold) or transitional spaces: a lot of change is happening here. - On Thresholds, Ten Thousand Journeys
The Jungian analyst and author, James Hollis, in his books, often talks about asking the question, where is life asking me to grow? I don’t think he was specifically talking about thresholds, but I really like that question because I immediately feel this resistance in my body that outlines all the reasons why I can’t do this growing: I am too scared; I don’t like it; it’s not fair; I am too old, too young, etc.; or, my favorite, a version of I shouldn’t have to. A threshold is like an alchemical container, one where we marinate (hardly an alchemical word!) with these questions. There is no pat answer and no prescription, just your experience. Sometimes, there is not even the demand for immediate action, just a call to witness a change. A personal ritual can be helpful when faced with a threshold and maybe, next week, we can talk about rituals, and where do they belong in a modern world?
Reader, I want to thank you for your patience. I haven’t been able to send out a newsletter every week (or, maybe you haven’t noticed, in which case, carry on!), but I am trying to.
I’d love to hear from you. How have you experienced life’s thresholds and what is the one observation/lesson you can share from your experience?
Best,
Priya
One advantage to writing, journaling, and note-keeping is that I am always tracking all kinds of cycles. Solar, lunar, planetary, seasonal, emotional, behavioral, etc. 😀
For me, I've always noticed the threshold in hindsight. I'm glad to notice you're noticing the threshold in the present. Perhaps, that's a good sign. For me, a threshold signifies that place where the river meets the sea/ocean. Geographically, referred to as an estuary. They say the water isn't as salty as the ocean, but the sweetness of the river blends in and that surrender leads to brackish water. Maybe, that's the threshold that makes one being to evolve and feel belonged? Perhaps, that's growth too. And unlike the horizon, this is much more tangible.
So achingly beautiful Priya. I truly felt your despair at not being able to coax the words but perhaps this threshold will lead to new insights and maybe a new lease of creativity. I wish you well on your journey.