This is a love letter.A love letter to women in transition.
This, then, is also a love letter for all women. For at one time or another we will all find ourselves moving between spaces and lives and iterations of ourselves. Indeed, perhaps we always are.
~~~
Dearest,
This is not easy. I know that. When I look down the length of my own body I can still see the indentations of gravel on kneecaps from the time I spent on the hard ground, howling at the moon.
We all go to the earth sometimes, down to the depths of ourselves and sit with the center of our pain. It aches to be, to dance, to live and breathe and eat and sleep in this space that is neither here nor there. Somewhere in the namelessness. Somewhere in the wild nothingness of the ether. Somewhere in between.
There will come a time – there will come many times – when we must stagger the liminal spaces between this life and that. When the night sky has deepened to the color of an unhealed bruise and only the haunted remain awake. When that ceaseless moan ramps up its siren song in the melancholy hush of 3am. When the cacophony of voices deafens and hands grasp from all sides pulling, grabbing, pleading us to stay. Or to go.
staystaystaygostaygogogogo.
The liminal space is best friends with desperate bargains. With grasping and pleading. With prayers from those usually far too busy to kneel. With the disordered embrace of childhood religion. With the distancing from faith that sustains. With the desperate push-pull. With the exquisite intermingling of loss and longing.
It is a space of disequilibrium. Of quaking knees and unsteady breath. Of a yearning for balance that is nowhere to be found.
Balance, she is a tricky bitch. The tightrope is stretched taut, high above an anxious audience. The space fills with an expectant hush so loud it transforms your being into an echo. Half of the souls below are hoping you’ll make it, the other half wait for you to fall. You will freeze in the middle, guaranteed. You’ll be convinced you have to stay, await a clear answer that delivers you the certainty of the exact right choice. The one that will make everyone happy. The one that delivers truth without regret. The one that will take you to the other side without collateral damage.
And I wish I could say that that answer will come. That you will do what you need to do and cross to the other side and everything will be the same. And maybe it will. But darling, transition is no time for the hopeless task of satisfying everyone. You’ll drive yourself mad trying. We all do. But now it is time for doing exactly what scares you the most.
JUMP.
You think you need a tightrope act, but you really need trapeze release. You have to let go before you’re holding on to anything solid. Have to feel that brief, terrifying moment of freefall and trust that you will be caught if you need be caught. Fall if you need to fall. Land where you need to land.
Feel the air rushing past your body. Trust. And trust. And trust. Speak your bone truth. Discover the root of your endless compassion. Un-learn lessons that have kept your heart on lockdown. Embrace what you need. Discard what does not serve. Bless your tender kneecaps. Bless your holy longing. Bless your wild soul.
And know you won’t be alone at the end. We will all be with you. Everyone who has leaped. Everyone who has landed. Everyone who has found their way through the liminal spaces, and everyone who still lives there. You’ll be full with your own fierce reality. Unapologetically, divinely you. And the ceaseless moan and the echoing gasp and the desperate prayers will fade. And you will be filled with the song of yourself.
It’s time to turn up the volume and dance, love. Damn, you make beautiful music.
This speaks to me. I need to write another article on my liminal being. Maybe about being torn between the yin and yang, the receptive and the giving, or maybe about being on the precipice of both choleric and melancholic. 🙂 I don’t know whether in live in any of these worlds or my mind inhabit one as my body inhabits the other. Who needs answers right away, anyway! 🙂
Wow, love this! Thanks for sharing Vanessa~~=))
Peeling off one finger at a time…
Wow
Damn, you make beautiful music!
Oh my goodness, I think I am in love. With you. With me. With all of us. Blessing my tender knee caps. Can I repost this on my website?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Love this… love. love.
I was crying instantly- just from the title. Thank you for writing this. This transition is so scary to me but it helps so so much to realize I’m not the only one transitioning. I definitely need a trapeze release. SIGH. Beautifully written 🙂
Naeemah Luckey … enjoy your beautiful fall
I wonder how many beautiful relationships are ruined by the inability to let go of the trapeze. "Un-learn lessons that have kept your heart on lockdown". Yes, that seems to be a valuable lesson here, I cannot love him truly until I am willing to let go and fly.
Forget the rules. Forget security. Let me in his arms to discover something new.
Maybe, someday, we will consider the relationship itself as a "liminal space" and learn to use the "bad" times to expand the good times. It seems it's only work because we fail to let go of the trapeze while, somehow, expect our partners to catch us. He won't until we both have finally let go of the bar holding us apart. Interesting concept how, it seems, many of us consider the end of that beautiful liminal space we call a "relationship" as the gift while ignoring all of the greatness within the relationship in the process.
That is, of course, if we truly love our partners. If we don't, well then letting go is the only course we can follow. If we do, well let's end the idea that the end is somehow a gift and start seeing it for what it is: a scourge.
I, for one am moving through spaces and in transition of spirit. This is beautiful.
As I passed the 1 year anniversary of my "transition" through the death of my partner, I read this article with so much more understanding and acceptance. thank you again for being there for me, for all of us.