I ran into the Morgan Hill Safeway last week to pick up some groceries and a woman stopped me in the frozen food section. I had dashed back to that aisle to pick up some blueberries and was pretty much done with my shopping.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure” I said, thinking she wanted to know where to find the cat food or to inquire about a good hamburger place in town.
“Do you have a blog? One Hip Diva?”
Stunned, I replied “Yes”. I had never seen this woman before and clearly she had only seen my picture.
“Where did you go? In your last entry you were moving out of your house.”
I had to think for a minute. Where did I go?
I am betwixt and between. At a midway point. Neither here nor there. Most of my “things” are in a storage unit somewhere in Morgan Hill. There is stuff in Dale’s garage and extra bedroom. Random objects are at my work in my office.
And I am in a liminal space until my new townhouse is completed in July.
I don’t usually do well with this sort of thing. I am a planner, a plodder, a tidy woman who likes to keep things in order. But for some reason I am unexpectedly calm. This liminal space is defined by Richard Rohr, the Franciscan priest who says that Everything Belongs.
It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else. It is when you are finally out of the way. It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.
Indeed. It is very unlike me to not want to flee! But in the betwixt and between there is time to unwind and discover who I am without all the accoutrements and props I’ve accumulated throughout the years. I’m waiting in the threshold for what’s next. It’s a creative space that begs to be explored. I’ve gotten out of my own way. I’ve let go, moved on, leaped, unhooked and trusted.
How do I explain all this to a woman I don’t even know, yet who knows me pretty intimately through my writing? Her name is Jill and if I hadn’t gone back to the frozen food section to pick up just one more thing I would never have met her.
Hello, Jill. And thank you.