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Liminal Space



Reality is that place between the sea and the foam.
                                                                  ~ Irish Proverb

Matilda and I are in a process of being born while dying. Things are changing, left behind, opening up, not yet, finished, beginning. We won’t be at this place where we are now within the next four months. You might find us at the same address, but it will be different from what is here today. Or we won’t be living here any more. Where we’ll be, we don’t know. There has not been revealed. But it won’t be here. Do not ask me where here is. I cannot show you. Maps tell only parts of stories. As to what exactly we’ll do once we’re there?  About that there is not clarity.

The farm is up for sale. When will it be sold? Will it be sold? What will open up in Wakkerstroom? Must we buy or rent? How big must the workshops and studio be at the place we are moving to? What must we focus on in terms of our own creativity? Being freelance artists, standing in different trades where there have been long dry stretches without work, should we take on any work coming our way, or must we decide with the single yardstick: “How will this fit into our plans with The Restory?” Must we be practical or spiritual? Is there a difference? Must we be reasonable or authentic? Do they clash? What is God hoping for us?

One of our wise guides, Richard Rohr, has the following to say:

“Limina is the Latin word for threshold, the space betwixt and between.  Liminal space, therefore, is a unique spiritual position where human beings hate to be but where the biblical God is always leading them.

It is when you have left the “tried and true” but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.  It is when you are finally out-of-the-way.  It is when you are in between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer.  It is not fun.

Think of Israel in the desert, Joseph in the pit, Jonah in the belly, the [women] tending the tomb.  Few of us know how to stay on the threshold. . .Inside of sacred (liminal) space you can – if you can dare imagine it – hear God.  Inside of sacred space you can see things in utterly new ways.  Ways that seem foreign and ever dangerous to those trapped inside the closed system.

Nothing good or creative emerges from business as usual.  This is why much of the work of God is to get people into liminal space, and to keep them there long enough so they can learn something essential.  It is the ultimate teachable space, maybe the only one.  Most spiritual giants try to live lives of “chronic liminality” in some sense.  They know it is the only position that insures ongoing wisdom, broader perspective and ever-deeper compassion.”
(Days Without Answers in a Narrow Space, National Catholic Reporter, Feb. 2002)

“Chronic Liminality”. To try to live that way! I don’t know.

But then – I catch myself lately that I’m thinking ahead, to a time when all the uncertainties that we are now facing are over. A time when things have settled. I’m afraid that something of our current sense of aliveness and anticipation will be lost. And we’ll be the poorer for it. I know that.

It seems then that one of the deep questions in spirituality is: How to live without settling into a comfort sone? Hopefully my struggle in living that question will be part of my prayer and a guide into Chronic Liminality.


George

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