March’s New Moon: The Threshold

When I was thirteen I began babysitting. In attempts to keep the kids entertained I would make up games for us to play. One such game involved a jump rope. I would make a circle with the jump rope and when we stepped through the loop we would be in a new world. The kids could help identify where we found ourselves. I’ve traveled to the land of candy, dinosaurs, cereal, toys, monsters, rainbows, lava…the list goes on. We traveled everywhere delighting in imaginary treats and running from made up foes. They would want to play this endlessly. 

Children inherently understand the magic of doorways – how stepping over a threshold is a transport to somewhere new. As we played, the kids in my charge would look around, take stock of their surroundings, “discover” where they were, and respond accordingly with delight or caution. One moment we could be running from danger and the next moment lounging and catching our breath, all because of the simple act of traveling through a door. Portal fantasy is a popular subgenre, particularly in children’s literature, including favorites like Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree collection, Mary Pope Osborne’s Magic Treehouse series, and C.S. Lewis’s wardrobe to Narnia in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Children hold wisdom that we often forget as we age and the power of the door is one such oft-forgotten bit of magic.

Briana Saussy in her book Making Magic says, “If you start to notice what it is like to pass through different doors and into and out of the different spaces they separate, you will notice that every time you enter and exit through a door, something within you shifts and changes.” This is most obvious when we enter a favorite shop or restaurant, show up for work, or visit a park. Saussy goes on to describe that doors are not limited to the kind we regularly open, walk through and close behind us. She reminds that, “Your liminal doors are made of light and shadow, breath, physical movement of all kinds, touch and sensation. Play itself can be a door, as can the erotic. Food and drink, feast and merriment, can be doors. The scents of oils, perfumes, candles, wet grass, electricity that is in the air before a big storm …Wind rustling through trees, insects buzzing in the grasses, owls singing in the deepest night—all doors.”    

Saussy encourages us to become aware that most magic hides in plain sight and within ordinary objects. We are profoundly shaped by our inner experiences and these inner experiences have direct effects on how we interact in the world. To recognize the places, scents, sights, experiences—doors—which transport or transform us, and then engage in stepping through those portals at key times—that is a powerful skill or, if you will, magic, to wield. Whether it’s a keepsake that brings up fond memories, a perfume that conjures peacefulness, or a food that grounds us and brings comfort—these simple “doorways” bring us back to ourselves as effectively as coming through the door after a long day at work. 

It’s also possible to create doors for ourselves, if we need help with a transition—for example, stepping outside after a work-from-home day to breath fresh air before coming back inside to enjoy personal time. One of the most common doors is a warm beverage in the morning to help us across the threshold between sleep and wakefulness. Having had to cut back significantly on caffeine, I know for me, it’s the ritual of the practice more than anything else that I crave each morning to get me going. 

The dark moon, as a metaphor for resting and pausing, asks us to consider this key feature of a doorway: the threshold. How often do we pause on a threshold? Not often enough? More than we think? Do we relish the time there, or do we pause in caution, uncertain about what we will happen once we pass through the door? We might pause to adjust something about ourselves before opening a door. Maybe we stop at the threshold only to change our mind and not enter.  What about doors we’re forced to enter, against desire or better judgement? 

“Limen” means “threshold” in Latin, and gives us the word “liminal.” A liminal space is neither one place nor another, neither one thing or another. Hallways, waiting rooms, elevators, passages, bridges, beaches, river banks, cliffs, caves and the hour of twilight—are all liminal spaces.  The threshold is a powerful place – swirling with the potential of that which lies on either side.

Most often, moving through the doorways of our life is straightforward, often neutral or even pleasurable. But there are other times it seems like we can lurk on a threshold for ages. Often this happens when we have left one phase of life suddenly or with reluctance. We are clearly not in the life we once knew. Time keeps moving forward, and yet we don’t feel as though we’ve fully stepped into a new world. The potential for transformation is so great, the passage so large, or the door itself so unwanted, that we hesitate. 

The power of tarot and oracle decks is rooted in their ability to offer stories and archetypes to help guide us. Each card can be a doorway in and of itself. Many decks, focused on navigating our journeys through our lives, have a card representing the threshold. In the traditional tarot, the Two of Wands represents this concept, with the two wands or staffs often held up as either side of a doorway. 

Artist Kim Kranz’s Archetypes oracle deck has a “threshold” card. In the guidebook the entry for the card offers: “Threshold initiation means a part of you will be lost in order to make space for what is next. A metaphorical death must occur…The ground seems to crumble as you freefall into your new reality. Some may not recognize you. You may struggle to recognize yourself. This is the liminal realm. One step, dear friend—just take that one necessary step to the future that calls you.” For Kranz, the threshold is a place of initiation—a place of personal challenge where we are asked to apply our wisdom and our skills to survive.  

Folklorist Sharon Blackie in her oracle deck “The Rooted Woman” also has a “threshold” card. Of it she writes, “When we stand on the threshold, we apprentice ourselves to possibility. The moment when you step onto the threshold isn’t always a comfortable one. You’ll be leaving behind the ground you know, and you’re about to take a significant step into the unknown: nothing on the other side is familiar to you yet. It’s the point of maximum pressure.” The card advises pausing at this time to shed anything weighing one down or distracting us from our purpose. It’s the place to breathe and gather oneself before the leap into the unknown. 

Reflecting on how the concept of “doors” might relate to this moment in time, I am noticing tensions breaking out in the social media space regarding how people are advising others to act at this moment in time. The differing advice is inadvertently leading to polarizing and binary opinions about the way to approach the present moment. Some, especially those in spiritual or mental health realms, are, wisely, offering ways to disconnect from the news, take breaks, escape and find joy. Others are, rightly, raising the alarm and calling people to step up into new or increased action. Some are condemning the approach of the other. Encountering both certainly may be generating internal conflict. The answer, I believe, is that we need to understand this concept of “doors” and be able to discern what different doors ask of us, and what they offer us. If we aren’t self-aware of our personal, unique doors, we cannot make use of them with intention. The doors will still work for us, but we may rush through, hover, avoid, with little or no intention beyond the immediate need. We need a variety of doors in our life. No matter the world stage, we need our doorways to rejuvenation, and we need our doorways toward change and resistance.    

I’m thinking of the scene in the movie Labyrinth where the main character, Sarah, is faced with the option of two doors. Each door has a talking door knocker. Neither can tell her what lies beyond either door, but nevertheless they both have numerous opinions about which door she should pick. In the end, she must rely on her own reasoning to make a choice. The theme of the movie is about navigating the threshold of adolescence. While Sarah’s success depends on the friends she makes in the labyrinth, her own personal conviction and agency ultimately determines her fate as she turns left or right, passing through one door after another.   

No one else can tell you which doors you should pick, nor when you are ready. Only you know when you are distracting yourself and avoiding crossing a threshold, and when you are using your many doors to keep yourself healthy, joyful and ready to meet a new day.  In order to wisely choose, you will need your own discernment and awareness of your doors. Noticing when you plunge through, and when you hesitate, you can reflect on when you need a nudge forward.

The world is offering a startling number of new doors right now, and the stakes are high for many of them should you choose to go through. Remember the power of the pause upon the threshold—it doesn’t serve you to linger in the liminal for too long, but also take time to gather yourself on the stoop.  

The moon takes three nights of complete darkness each month. She knows when it’s time to move on and start the next cycle. Trust your inner wisdom will tell you when your “three days” are up, and when that time comes, gather your courage and take your first step. For the big doors that take courage and persistence, you’ll have your knapsack-collection of smaller, ordinary doors to transport you back into joy and recuperation. At any given moment, you are likely steps away from a door, and therefore from transportation and transformation. You have magic at hand to ease yourself through the mundane but challenging transitions of your day and the ability to move yourself through bigger life changes.

By identifying and consciously working with the doors in your life you can escape for a bit of rest, or help move yourself to a new state of being. I am willing to bet your inner child will understand this, even if you yourself feel self-conscious about identifying the portals in your life. Most of these doors are invisible to everyone but you, and no one will ever know unless you tell them. So, no excuses, grab your jump rope and start exploring.   

Leave a Reply