Standing at the threshold
Will you dance, march, run or go gently?
Well friends, it’s happening. After the world’s longest lockdown, Melbourne (and the Mornington Peninsula) are finally emerging into some semblance of normality (only, not really, because the world is changed and so are we).
This has got me thinking about rites of passage, rituals and thresholds.
I read an interview with artist and celebrant Sally Newry in Dumbo Feather magazine a while back — last year — where Sally said,
“Imagine if every time we went into lockdown there was some ritual to acknowledge what was happening. And when we were coming out, instead of just a conversation like, “Oh that was weird”, or, “that was hard”, there was a more ritualised structure that sat around the experience.”
What could this ritual be? At one point I imagined that it might involve a huge bunch of people running screaming into the cold ocean, wild and ecstatic.
Now, all these months later, I feel a little more tired and a little less keen on such a high-energy event. My body, mind and heart are currently home to a curious mix of joy, relief and trepidation. But I’m still longing for a ritual. Because rituals, as I’ve said before in so many words, help us transition from one thing to the next. They acknowledge the moment we are in and the moment we are moving towards. They help us to build little fences around things to mark them out as sacred. And they imbue experiences with consciousness and intentionality. We need all of this right now, I think — whether or not you’re sharing the same corner of the world as me, because, lockdown or no lockdown, you’re sure to be journeying through some sort of rite of passage (the word “ritual” stems from “rite”, of course).
Rituals help us step over the threshold that separates the present and the future. They’re a kind of midwife that delivers us into whatever it is we’re being born into; a shepherd that ushers us into the moment that awaits us on the other side of the passage.
Here’s what the Irish poet John O’Donohue wrote of rituals and thresholds in his 2008 book To Bless the Space Between Us:
“A threshold is not a simple boundary; it is a frontier that divides two different territories, rhythms and atmospheres… At this threshold a great complexity of emotions comes alive: confusion, fear, excitement, sadness, hope. This is one of the reasons such vital crossings were always clothed in ritual. It is wise in your own life to be able to recognise and acknowledge the key thresholds; to take your time; to feel all the varieties of presence that accrue there; to listen inward with complete attention until you hear the inner voice calling you forward. The time has come to cross.”
O’Donohue also writes: “At any time you can ask yourself: at which threshold am I standing? At this time in my life, what am I leaving? Where am I about to enter?”
So, sweet human, what is your current threshold? Exiting lockdown? Entering a new phase of your life, or even just a new (calendar or symbolic) season? What will you bring with you, and what will you leave behind? Will you dance, march, run or go gently?
The time has come to cross, but how we cross is up to us. We can be mindful and deliberate about it. You can shift into this next phase — whatever it is — in a way that feels alive and appropriate for you.
Before last summer began I decided that I wanted to have a spacious summer. I wanted it to be a summer of reading books on the beach, cooking slowly in the kitchen and taking afternoon naps in the coolness that resides behind drawn curtains (not that we had curtains then, but that was the vibe I was going for). This was the first time I’d been intentional about the season ahead, and I can tell you it made a big difference. My summer was spacious.
We can approach the re-opening of the world in the same way. We have an opportunity to imagine, dream and envision how we want to feel going forward. We can set boundaries. We can build our little sacred fence and decide what gets to be inside its bounds and what doesn’t.
This applies to gatherings, too. We’ve gone so long without them that it’s going to be a little strange to be able to come together once again. But we can we more intentional about it than we ever have been. I love the work that Priya Parker is doing in this area: she invites us to consider the purpose of a gathering and the chief needs of the people who will be attending, and design the event from there (whether it’s a wedding or a three-person brunch). She also has this thing about “pop-up rules” that I like and that change the texture of the meeting — for example having no phones allowed, or keeping a certain topic off limits.
Anyway, what I’m trying to get at here is that you are the designer of your life — or at least the co-creator. As we transition into the next part of our journey, design something that includes as many life-giving elements and as few life-draining elements as possible. Recognise what it is that you want, in your heart of hearts, and what you truly need. Then, move forward in whatever style feels right.
With love,
Jane