Crossing the threshold
one step at a time
We are all in-part defined by that which is outside of ourselves, created by us and through us, and with and through others. We are the roles, the ideas, the expectations, challenges and disappointments. We are stories and narratives, myth and truth. Roots, trunk, branches, leaves and flowers. And seeds. We are visions and dreams. And feet in clay.
I am this soft, creamy caramel-tasting tea that I cup with two hands in an oversized, bulging, gold-rimmed cup that appeared one day in my cupboard. Things have a knack of just showing up in my cupboards from nowhere. I did not like it at first – too gaudy. Too much gold on the rim, handle and bottom. But now I love it. She is larger than life and stands out. The delicate cream coloured porcelain perfectly contrasting with the bright, shiny, over the top gold. Absolutely perfect. She is the perfect vessel. I would call her beautiful, even though not my usual style.
Our tastes change. Who we are is changing constantly. We are continually in the becoming phase, which makes life exciting and definitely worthwhile. Sometimes we don’t realise the be-coming potential which we all possess. And we get stuck. We get stuck in outdated stories and ways of looking. Or we finally get past them and somebody, including ourselves, slaps a new label on us.
I get it. I really do. We like certainty and continuity. And we shouldn’t throw out the baby with the bath water. But the year end is an excellent time to examine what to keep and what to throw out. Which stories are keeping us stuck? Which roles do we no longer fit into? Which ways of seeing have we outgrown? And whose expectations burden us into conforming to a person we no longer recognise or wish to be?
I like to think of life as a series of thresholds. We occupy particular roles for a season or more, and then it might be time to let go. Sometimes we are forced to release ourselves into something else, or to change skins, when we’d rather stick to what’s known. The threshold can be a daunting place. Like when our children leave home and we know that it’s a good thing, but we can’t help but want to cling. Our role as mother must transform itself. This doesn’t imply we love our children any less, but as they spread their wings in different directions, we too face a new life outside the cocoon.
Our values may shift as well, as we ‘grow up’. How we conceptualise notions like friendship or love might find new forms. Our priorities change. As do our expectations. We can’t be bothered with things which seemingly don’t matter, and things which do take one greater importance. Like family, or art and music.
As I was trying to peal off a sticky label from a jam pot the other day, it reminded me of how hard it can be to literally relieve ourselves of self-created, or other-imposed labels. I’ve noticed a 360 degree change in how society views labels nowadays. With increased (self) diagnostic tests, and the stretching of concepts like trauma and ‘neuro-diversity’, we have become societies obsessed with labels. It’s as though having a label is some kind of trophy. It allows us to ‘know’ and experience the world from a more secure perspective. Perhaps in this mass consumption culture, to have a label is to somehow be more special than the label-less. Labels provide identity safety. They can certainly be useful at times; but they can also limit our responsibility and narrow down our perspectives. I am ‘autistic’. Or I am my ‘ADHD’. That’s why I behave this way. Before we were told to say: person ‘with’ autism. Now it’s apparently more respectable to say “an autistic person”.
Societies encourage labels. The medical professionals encourage us to embrace our labels and to embrace our special identities. We are all traumatised. Everybody is special. Which in fact means we are all clambering to find our own label, so as not to be left out. And woe betide those who try to see beyond the label. Or beyond the trauma.
We find it increasingly difficult to acknowledge, hold, embrace and cultivate complexity. To hold the tension of and-and. To stand in the threshold of knowing and not-knowing. We do not know how to live in our bodies, in this incarnated world, so we look to escape to the ‘more than this’. Or, alternatively, we only know this particular flesh and deny the mystery of the beyond.
And when we do try to remove a label, it’s incredibly sticky. Or we can only get bits of it off. Like on a jam pot. Sticking it on is the easy part. Getting it off leaves scars.
I cannot offer a solution. Each one of us must do the hard work for ourselves.
In a poetry retreat I am participating in at the moment, the following poem was used last night:
How do you cross the flood?
You cross calmly—
One step at a time,
Feeling for stones.
How do you cross the flood, my heart?
You cross calmly –
One step at a time,
Or not at all.
- Poem of awakening by early Buddhist Nun Upasama (Calm) from The Free women: Poems of the Early Buddhist Nuns, a poetic translation by Matty Weingast.
The flood is everywhere. Flood of thoughts. Flood of labels. Flood of identities. Flood of expectations. When we decide to step into the flood, we can go slowly. One step at a time. Feeling for the stones underfoot. Calmly. Or we can decide to wait. In the threshold. At the doorway, calmly present. The threshold offers us this in-between- worlds chance.
This morning, encouraged by my dreams last night, I wrote down:
“Letting go of the self is an intentional act. But if there is no whole, integrated, healthy self in place to begin with, either you fall into nihilism, or you fill the holes and plug the gaps with labels. You cannot let go of something you do not have”.
Which labels are plugging your gaps? What roles provide you with a sense of safety even though they may no longer be useful? Which stories have outlived their purpose? Which ‘stepping stones’ will support you across whichever threshold you are occupying at present?
I wish us all a wholesome 2025. I wish us a year in which we have the courage to see clearly, the curiosity to look beyond and the community to help us across the threshold.
ps: Look at the photos of the sunrise, taken between 08.31 and 08.38 on the morning of 21st December 2024. Look how ever more glorious the sun became, as she flowed across the natural threshold, unafraid of becoming….and notice how much joy we get from nature’s threshold moments.
Beautiful Kim, thank you for your words 💜