New Year's Eve was indeed a unique experience for me. Typically, Ron and I would gather with our loved ones and celebrate the occasion in a festive manner. We would spend the evening laughing, reminiscing about the past year, and eagerly welcoming the new one. However, this time things took an unexpected turn. We found ourselves indulging in our usual activities on this day, such as having a late dinner, sipping on a few glasses of wine, and enjoying some music. We even took the time to flick through the tv channels to watch the breathtaking fireworks displays from different time zones around the world as midnight approached. Despite partaking in our usual festivities, there was a different feeling about this New Year's Eve.
As South Africa approached midnight, Ron and I eagerly turned to the SABC television channels to see what was happening across our country. To our surprise, there was no sign of any New Year's Eve celebrations. Earlier in the week, there had been a lot of buzz about a grand fireworks display at the V & A shopping center in Cape Town. It faced opposition from animal rights groups but despite the initial resistance, the V & A eventually received permission to proceed with the display. Naturally, we were excited to witness the spectacle from the comfort of our couch. But as we flipped through the channels, all we found were news programs discussing politics and financial matters. There was a distinct lack of expected festivities we thought would be televised. The lack of coverage left a strange feeling of emptiness that our country seemed to have overlooked a moment of joy in favor of continuing with business as usual.
Another peculiar occurrence was the silence that enveloped our cell phones. There were no incoming messages on our social groups or from our family members. It was as if a strange void had settled, leaving us in an empty space of nothingness. The absence of communication added to the prevailing sense of strangeness and made us question the usual excitement and connection that we usually experience during such festive occasions.
When I woke up on New Year’s Day, the strange sensation of being in the space between celebration and the normal bustle of life was still lingering within me. I couldn’t help but feel curious about this unusual silence.
It is said that when an artist embarks on the journey of creating a masterpiece, they turn their gaze towards the negative space around the image. Imagine, if you will, the enchanting process of drawing a chair. Instead of fixating on its shape and texture, the artist beholds the space that surrounds the chair, drawing inspiration from the very absence of form. It is from this realm of emptiness that their artistic endeavor takes flight, transforming a blank canvas into a captivating work of art.
I find myself traversing a vast spectrum of emotions daily. Like a somewhat delicate dance I move between times of joy and sadness, anxiety and calm, depression and elation to name a few. These emotions are the essence of the human experience. They are neither good nor bad, they are the awe-inspiring beauty of who I have been created to be.
At times, these ebb and flow feelings make me feel as though I am a tiny vessel being tossed about by the waves and winds of life. However, amidst these feelings of fragility, there are also moments of profound clarity. When I am embraced by the unwavering certainty of Love, I am transformed. In those precious instances, I transcend my limitations and glimpse the truth that I am expansive. I am a giant!
As I reflect on these New Year's Eve feelings, I can’t help but wonder about the significance of the spaces amidst all the noise. The more I actively seek out these spaces and embrace them within my life, the more I find myself becoming part of the beautiful Love Song that is constantly whispering in the background. This enchanting melody inspires me to declutter and create more room for Love to flow.
Jason Guthy sings a song called “Giants” and the lyrics are,
“‘cause we’re all giants tryin’ to answer questions
Why do we feel so small
When we’re not at all?
But even giants need someone to land on
When they fall
We’re trying to stand tall
Yeah, we’re giants
Yeah, we’re giants
We’re giants when we fall,
Why do we feel so small
When we’re not at all?”
After careful reflection, I have come to a powerful realization: I need to shift my perception. It is evident that I was never meant to be small. My programming, traumas, hurts, disappointments, and my fear of losing control over my own life have all contributed to my denial of the greatness that lies within me, a reflection of the Divine. When I open myself up to the spaces within my life, I am no longer confined by limitations. Instead, I am an expansive creation, capable of remarkable things. It is my responsibility to clear away the clutter that hinders my true self from shining through, creating more room for genuine openness. Additionally, I must remain mindful of the quiet spaces that exist between each breath I take, for within these still moments lies the essence of existence. This concept, known as "Liminal Space," may initially feel uncomfortable, as it is a space of transition and inactivity, existing between the past and the future. However, I firmly believe that within this liminal space the most profound growth occurs, if I can learn to surrender to it.
Richard Rohr's idea of Liminal space or the space in between resonates with me, “Liminal space relativizes our perspective. When we embrace liminality, we choose hope over sleepwalking, denial, or despair. The world around us becomes again an enchanted universe, something we intuitively understood when we were young and somehow lost touch with as we grew older. This in-between place is free of illusions and false payoffs. It invites us to discover and live from broader perspectives and with much deeper seeing.”