The liminal space and fallow grounds may appear idle to the outside eye. Potent magic takes place deep inside this safe wombspace.
I find it intriguing that a simple conversation, even an innocent prompt, can reveal and surface what is ready to be verbalized. The conscious mind may not know it but it is cuing from within the subconscious.
A brief chat with a friend allowed me to put into words with such alarming clarity something that I have been feeling, or more accurately feeling out, that it surprised even myself. This thing about visibility. Then, a client sent me an article about shadow work for editing. We all hide ourselves, don’t we? Different in degree and in our awareness of the masks and methods we use.
I noted that my last journal entry here dated December 2016. That is more than one year past. I am not surprised by my lengthy absence. Much has transpired, that required my attention and that which created deep discomfort about being visible. Perhaps the time was to journey to the underworld, shedding all the garments of another life, to be rebirthed into spring time of the new.
The time for fierce rising, like the Phoenix, is not yet here. I sit patiently in this liminal space of between and betwixt, focused on the inner processes for truer alignment. This is fallow ground.
We learned in school that to ensure the fertility of the lands, farm land was rotated and land was left fallow, for the natural process of rejuvenation and remineralization to take place deep in the soil. Away from the world above, it is left alone to come back. This land may be unproductive and idle, in terms of farming output but what is going on below is of immense value.
In the same way I too am allowing deep unseen processes to naturally run. Remineralizing, rebuilding the bones of who I am, away from the glare of expectation. In a year of The Hermit.
In a world that equates success and output with productivity and worth, the concept of fallow grounds and liminal space may be difficult and even uncomfortable to grasp.
An important part of the path forward, for me and for anyone at a crossroad, is to (re)discover values that are truly my own and not be persuaded and seduced by the outside world to judge them as otherwise. One by one we take off the mask and the wardrobe of someone we have been masquerading as, thinking it as an aspect of Self when in fact it was a role we played for others and one we may not have enjoyed very much.
In recent years, I’ve had ample opportunity to revisit many of my beliefs. These are beliefs about love, marriage, betrayal, self-love, relationships of all kinds, death, grief, loss, worth, belonging … they are all intertwined aren’t they? We cannot tug at one without pulling into view the others. In this weaving of our fates and destinies, perhaps some of us have chosen to come face to face with these timelines, themes, and archetypes.
… and today, I resurrected Sandra the Traveller journal. I gave it a new look. I’m still figuring out the nuances of this template so please bear with me as I work my way through, for a rebirth of these writings. And for my rebirth.
