Sanctuary in the Wilderness
There's a place in the middle of every journey. In the stereotypical hero's journey, you usually find it hidden away somewhere shortly after they “cross the threshold.” In the Lord of the Rings, it's Tom Bombadil's. In Narnia, it's the Beaver's home. I loved the Redwall series growing up, and about halfway through every book there was a great feast. Hawkeye's farm house in the second Avengers movie. You can find an example of it in just about every great adventure story.
What fascinates me about this place is the role that it plays in offering a tiny bit of sanctuary in the wilderness, and how that parallels into the deconstruction journey. Leaving what's familiar and safe, stepping over the boundary of your comfort zone, willingly or unwillingly, is both exhilarating and terrifying. These little oases of joy, of fellowship and laughter, tend to contain some of the most profound and life-fueling moments in our lives. They also exist in this timeless space, disconnected from the past that we've stepped away from, and also not really a part the future we're moving towards.
They're a bright, shining example of the life and depth that can be found in liminal spaces. Impermanent in nature, but connected to the eternal is at the same time. Which, really, is the only way we can catch a glimpse of the eternal, infinite reality. In small moments, in a pub or around a campfire, separated from future and past, but connected to those around us.
Peace and tenacity,