The Liminal Space of Grief

In the spring, I moved in to a new home just for my boys and I after separating from my husband. It was the crescendo of months of confusion, anger, and constant change after realizing my marriage had transformed and it was no longer meant for either of us. So much had happened over the course of the last few years, and while I knew I would eventually process it all, I knew it wouldn’t be immediate. I was so exhausted by the constant turns and twists of my life, but I tucked it away in a metaphorical suitcase to be unpacked at a later date, when I was safe to do so. I moved, I got my kids off to a great start at their new school, I reconnected with a few lost parts of myself, and stayed as busy as possible. I filed for divorce…and then when it was final, I finally let myself fall apart.

If I look back, I could see myself falling a part at the seams. I stopped working out, I started smoking weed ever day to keep the emotions away, and tried to distract myself. I got laid off from a job I loved in July. Still, I kept pushing down the reflux of everything I could barely stand to digest. But as they often do, my dreams became more vivid the more I tried to hide. I received lots of warnings and messages in my dreams to confront the feelings of grief because they were CONSUMING me in ever way. Past experiences told me that if I ignored my dreams, my guides would find a much more disruptive way to get the message across.

I’ve been experiencing a myriad of emotions. Some of them, like my fear of abandonment, came roaring back, and other’s crept back sneakily, like the feeling of being perpetually misunderstood by those around me. I began crying (a lot), expressing all my anger, redirecting boundaries, writing, singing the sad songs, and going to bed earlier and earlier. There is a fine line between feeling your feelings, and depression, but as someone who loves to suffer alone and mask their sadness, It was healthy for me to lean in to this process. I had overstayed my welcome in the liminal space, and spirit was urging me to move forward and cope in a healthy way, but I couldn’t do that until I admitted how broken I felt. I couldn’t fully feel it until I understood why.

I am sill not outside the field of grief. Every time I move closer, the goal post changes a bit, but I understand why. I spent much of my life feeling every emotion so strongly, but not releasing it from my body, and my body has made it clear that it cannot stay. I have to be patient and release as much as I can to the universe and lean in to the practices that bring me home. The acceptance stage of grief is waiting, and this is the most transformative part. Everything is energy, and the energy of grief and sadness is transformed during this period of time, but what will I create from it? I’m not quite sure yet, but I do understand that whatever comes from this shift can be used to plant me deeper in despair, or help me outgrow what isn’t meant to be for the better.