A Liminal Space
You’ll find me on the back roads during these late Summer days. The speed of the highway means windows can’t roll down to feel the warm breeze and the wildflowers blur when I want to view each color so I slow down, surrounded by fields.
There’s one road, in particular, I frequent to recenter. It leads me to a dream of mine. The dust and loose gravel of the dirt road swirl around in a dreamy haze as I meander past the late 1800s farmhouse.
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A family with young children lives there. The new windows, fresh paint, and any number of changes each time I pass confirm they’re there for the long haul. Chipping away at making it their own.
I can’t actually live there. Mainly because other people already do.
It’s important to have an aspiration to hold onto, one that physically exists when the tumult and stagnation of daily routine induce lethargy and lack of focus. I’m currently in a liminal space, a transitional period. I won’t go back to where I was but I haven’t yet arrived at the new place. It’s a natural place to be. I just didn’t think I’d be here this long.
When enough time, discontent, and pressure have been brought to bear, the Wild Woman of the psyche will hurl new life into a woman’s mind, giving her the opportunity to act on her own behalf once more.
— From Clear Water: Nourishing the Creative Life in Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.
We’re scared to be in liminal spaces of any kind so we try to avoid them; waiting for a text reply, asking our children a million unnecessary questions in a row (it’s maddening, stop it.), wondering what the test results mean, confronting a friend unsure how they’ll respond.
There are the liminal spaces that last longer too, which can really send you spinning; in-between jobs, pausing a career to tend to children/parents/etc, recovering from illness, a stalemate with friends, healing from trauma. Life forces us into liminal spaces sometimes. I like to think the silver lining is gaining adaptability and resilience.
So yeah, the drive-by farmhouse dream looks pretty damn good when this season of liminality has me scattered and unfocused. I’m glossing over the realities by romanticizing it, but a dream is useful if it spurs you into action.
To lose focus means to lose energy. The absolutely wrong thing to attempt when we’ve lost focus is to rush about struggling to pack it all back together again. Rushing is not the thing to do. […] sitting and rocking is the thing to do. Patience, peace, and rocking renew ideas. Just holding the idea and the patience to rock it are what some women might call a luxury. Wild Woman says it is a necessity.
— From Clear Water: Nourishing the Creative Life in Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.
When all is quiet, I hear her call. My creative life.
I thought I’d lost her for good so I rushed in fear, trying to squeeze back into a life now too small for me. Giving birth is one of those moments in life you can’t go back from. It’s an initiation, one of the rites of passage to womanhood, just like your first menstrual cycle and, from what I hear, your last leading you to menopause.
These moments are part of your story you can’t take back even if you wish it’d gone differently. It becomes yours in all its imperfect, messy, soul-opening, earth-shattering glory. For better and for worse, both of those things.
I wonder what would happen if we all sat with that instead of rushing, long enough to face our discomfort, not knowing what we will find. Rocked ourselves the way we so lovingly rock our babies. Embodied this unapologetic necessity required to regain focus, instead of writing it off as luxury.
I’m trying. I’ll report back.
Seeking a part-time gig
Speaking of liminal spaces, I’m searching to get out of mine. I’m seeking part-time work beginning in the Fall if any dear readers know of something? I have 10+ years in marketing/graphic design/writing but I’m also handy in a greenhouse, a bookshop/library, and most definitely know my way around a newspaper, print shop, sewing machine, a basketball court, soccer field, and softball diamond. Some might say I have range so if you know of anything, I’d be so appreciative to hear about job openings! You can email me simply by replying to this email or send to emilygracebode@gmail.com.
Notables:
My free summer mini-series, Garden Notes, continues. It’s sent to all subscribers every Sunday. Week 11 goes out this Sunday 8/6 at golden hour.
announced her latest novel, Funny Story. I read her last 4 this summer, spurred on by our summer book club selection. Excited for this one!
I’m on a social media pause for August I lovingly call Analog for August. has a great preview of her social media break which inspired me to take mine this month.
Current read: The Beach at Summerly by Beatriz Williams
Current podcast: Let’s Talk about Sex on Beyond the Prescription with (kind of about sex, mostly about how to ask helpful questions to your doctors with the little time given at appointments, and menopausal symptoms that are good to know before you’re going through menopause)
Originally sent to Substack subscribers in August 2023.
