10/05/24 22:50 Self-care and the liminal space

I came across a t-shirt image today that I created a few short months ago. The image is sort of fun and cartoony. And the words say, “Self-care: hiking, kayaking, walking in the forest, listening to the mountain stream.” And then the tears came. Tearing up as I write this even now.

 

 

Yesterday I realized that I haven’t been in Nature to listen to the silence, to dip my hands into the river water, to gaze into the forest and feel her wonder since the last trip I guided down the Green River which was Friday, Sept 20^th. This was only 16 days ago and it feels like forever ago.

I went looking for a place to just sit with Nature yesterday and realized that the places that I would have normally gone seeking solace and sacredness...are basically boarded up (literally since trees are down blocking what used to be passable access to these glorious places...like Pisgah National Forest or Dupont.) Pisgah National Forest is now closed. Imagine this for a moment...the forest is closed.

As I sit and ponder this...I realize that I used to go into these mountains to wander amongst the trees and along the rivers and creeks for self-care and therapy for my soul. Nature was always there...opened armed if you will...whispering her wisdom. Always open.

Maybe now...I am called to return the favor. And even as I say this, imposter syndrome enters here. Who am I to return any sort of healing energy back to Nature?
Maybe this is what’s really been taking a toll on my heart. The fact that it appears Nature is broken. But is it? As I look around the devastation to the land here makes it unrecognizable. I don’t know this place like I once did. But isn’t she still there..her heartbeat?

I think this might be the exact thing I’ve spoken about before in other contexts. The middle space. The liminal space. That space between. Between the familiar and the unknown.

I wrote in a FB post on Sept. 8^th referencing change regarding the arrival of Fall:

“I don’t seem to fare as easily with change as Nature does. I’m learning...to allow and go with the flow...but sometimes I’d like things to stay the same for a while. And well...life flows much like the river. Always moving and changing and flowing down stream.

Yet at the same time I know change is good. Keeps us from growing stale or bored. Rest and reset is necessary.

Nothing here on Earth remains the same for long. There’s a reason for cycles. And today I’ll lean toward embracing the middle space where the end of one thing and the beginning of another dwells. And cheers to Nature for being such a master teacher of how to better human!”

Little did I know that not even a month after writing these words, Nature would embrace change yet again much better than I. Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I’m being called to figure out how to accept what is...maybe there is still beauty to be found there in her just as she is now? In all of my wanderings and the support Nature has provided to me..maybe now I’m being called to return the favor. Maybe in fact I need to go into forest and sit in this liminal space with her. Grieve with her. And learn to accept what is..and then watch as new life begins to grow again in the forests and along the rivers and creeks.

Maybe I need to pivot my perspective here. Could it be that I’m stuck in the idea that the beauty that I once found while hiking along the Daniel Ridge loop trail in Pisgah forest won’t be as I remember it? Stuck between the familiar and the unknown. How does one lean toward embracing the middle space where the end of one thing and the beginning of another dwells? Well, remaining open to new possibilities comes to mind.

This new landscape that we are all about to discover together over the next weeks and months and years..might just in fact bring us answers to these questions.

How utterly ironic that on the 26^th of September, the day that Helene arrived here in these mountains I read a poem by Polly Castor titled “Liminal Space” and posted this in a REELS video. I’ve watched this numerous times since...and I’m still challenged by the very words I read out loud.

Click here or on the image below to view this REELS video.