Nightswimming

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about liminal space. These are the passageways of life, not meant for permanence, and often assumed to be momentary. But change is rarely immediate. Evolution is a ghost. It occurs most frequently in silent wisps, unrecognized until it has passed.

This idea of liminal space, I think, is a bit like being supported by the buoyancy of shadowed water when we are nightswimming. We float along, secure in both our stillness and our movement. We must provide some of the work, lest we drown, but we don’t have to provide all of it. The ripples and currents will move us. It is impossible to be still even when we feel motionless.