Tag: thresholds

(All photos mine, taken 31^st Jan – 1^st Feb 2024 in the grounds of Ashburnham Place and the surrounding countryside.)

In October, in Nurture of Nature, I wrote about my hope of a transition away from a dysfunctional and difficult (work) environment to a more positive and constructive one.

I’m now in that place of transition. It’s been a tough ride, but here I am now in that space between the old and the new.

So, when I saw that a retreat titled At The Threshold was being held in exactly this period (between the end of my 20-year job role and the start of a new work challenge/opportunity), at Ashburnham Place (just up the road from me), led by Anna Robinson whose contemplations I already listen to and benefit from, I jumped at the opportunity.

In fact, it sounded like it was designed just for me.

The retreat ran from 30^th Jan to 2^nd Feb.

A threshold is defined as “The means or place of entry. The place or point of beginning…The term comes from the reeds and rushes, thresh, that were thrown on the floor of simple dwellings…. A piece of wood would be installed in the doorway to keep the thresh from falling out of an open door – thus threshold.” (Merriam-Webster)

We reflected on liminal spaces, between the old and the new, and on the myths and legends surrounding St Brigid, Ireland’s Patroness Saint, who represents the liminal space between worlds and is celebrated on 1^st Feb: also the first day of Spring according to the Celtic calendar.

Despite the numerous positive aspects of the retreat, I was experiencing significant emotional struggles following the work situation I’d left behind, and spent the morning of 1^st Feb walking in the surrounding countryside instead of participating in the sessions.

Nature is often the best healer.

Although this date might sound decidedly wintry to many of us, this particular year (in East Sussex at least), the first day of February transpired to be remarkably Spring-like, with sunshine so warm I ended up walking in shirt sleeves for the last couple of miles, carrying my heavy coat.

And it wasn’t just the weather that bore early signs of Spring.

These male pheasants were squaring up to each other the way pheasants do – each lowering his head to prove his dominance and claim the territory in preparation for the breeding season.

Snowdrops, probably mostly cultivated, adorned front gardens and roadsides.

I also saw my first ‘proper’ wildflowers of the year: these Lesser celandine and dandelions…

…complete with my first hoverfly sighting of the year.

The Winter/Spring sun also prompted the appearance of a Red Admiral – my first butterfly sighting of 2024 (no photo, sadly).

Seeing two kestrels together seemed unusual. Surely, as lone hunters, a second bird would be unwanted competition. But I was reliably informed by Ashburnham’s resident birder, Christian, that this coupling was yet another clear harbinger of Spring, as creatures everywhere are preparing to breed.

In tune with the Celtic calendar, we found ourselves clearly but somewhat surprisingly (to me, at least) on the threshold of Spring, with all the positive signs of hope and growth that that expectation brings.

On a lighter note, in reference to Noah’s Ark, a friend I made on the retreat joked that all the wildlife at Ashburnham is seen in pairs because it’s a Christian centre. I quipped back that we’ll soon see Steve Carell appear, with a super-long beard.

As another expression of thresholds, Anna led us on two outdoor sessions over sunset / dusk, that liminal space between day and night. The first of these sessions was a silent, deliberately slow walk, watching the subtle changes in hues under cloud-laden skies. A silent, contemplative walk with others was a new and profound experience for me.

The second, on 1^st Feb, was spent revelling in a spectacular sunset, brightening our hearts.

Amongst other things, Brigid is known as the patroness saint of midwives. In Celtic imagery, the earth in its transition from Winter into Spring is compared to a womb awaiting the right time to give birth, Brigid symbolising the earth’s midwife.

Anna reminded us that as we move through our own transitional stages of life, it’s often helpful (maybe vital) to have ‘midwives’ – people who support us through those liminal spaces into new beginnings.

As I reflect on my own experiences of the retreat, despite undergoing emotional difficulties, I’m left with many beautiful and positive images and themes etched onto my mind.

For those few days I was part of a gentle-hearted, caring and kind group of spiritually like-minded people – experiencing greater oneness with this temporary community than I have with any group for a long time – and I felt surrounded and sustained by these spiritual midwives.

It occurred to me that this liminal space in my own life, drawing on the midwifery imagery, is perhaps almost bound to involve some birth pains – pains that foreshadow the joy of new beginnings. I’m so grateful for Anna and the others who were there as my own midwives, in the spirit of Brigid.

I’m also grateful for the ancient Celtic traditions and spirituality, with its recognition of our inherent connectedness with Nature, that was woven into the retreat – an approach to faith that has long appealed and I intend to explore further, to integrate into my own contemplative practices.

And I look back fondly on my St Brigid’s Day nature walk, with the many heralds of Spring that the day offered and which brought refreshment and nourishment to my soul.

I finish here with one of my favourite photos of the week (just a flock of sheep, but with long, long shadows indicative of the low, low sun of Winter – soon to be Spring!) and some words from John O’Donohue that have ‘emerged’ into – and strongly resonated with – my consciousness more than once already this year, including on the retreat.

For a New Beginning (by John O’Donohue)

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,

Where your thoughts never think to wander,

This beginning has been quietly forming,

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety

And the grey promises that sameness whispered,

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream,

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear

You can trust the promise of this opening;

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning

That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

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Thank you to Anna Robinson and all those who attended At The Threshold, 30^th Jan – 2^nd Feb 2024.

To find out more about Anna’s work, please see: LiveLight|DwellDeep

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