The liminal space is the crucible for truth
Oh, that in-between space of no-thing-ness and no one’s land.
Where there is an ending and a beginning, side by side, yet all mashup and confusing.
The dark night, long, unyielding.
Hope run away.
Sense abandoned. Rationality has left the building.
There is a thread to be found. But it evades us as we flail around wildly.
The liminal space seeks stillness. No effort. No striving.
It will break us until no other option is left but to become stillness itself.
Only when we do this, only when we surrender to the no-thing-ness of in-between, do we find the thread.
The liminal space then becomes the crucible for truth. The kind of truth that has existed at the bottom of all excuses, all justifications, all pretence, for years… decades.
Truth that cannot be ignored. Not for another second.
We fear the in-between no-man’s land. The chasm of uncertainty.
Yet it is the compost of becoming.
We might learn to allow it to birth us again.
Photo March 23rd 2025, Article written March 23rd 2025
