The Story of Between
To do the possible, the old way works fine. When we have a map from A to B, we can just follow the directions. Now is not that time. The calculable results are not enough. We need miracles. We have caught a glimpse of our destination, the destination that hope foretells, but we have no idea how to get there. We walk an invisible path with no map and cannot see where any turning will lead. ~Charles Eisenstein
We are in between. Between the old story that is disintegrating and the new story that wants to be told.
A pitfall in this place is the urge to fall back on familiar habits. Familiar maps and methods. Those can be comforting and create the illusion of safety. But they take us back towards the territory we have resolved to leave. They must be used sparingly and with awareness of their origins.
The utility of logic is limited here. My mind can help me with minor calculations, like how to traverse a certain dune, or the best place to cross an arroyo. But it’s useless in answering the question “how do I get where I am going?”
My best tools now are patience and intuition. Wendell Berry says we no longer have the luxury of hurrying. That was the old way of reckless miscalculation. Of fits and starts. Of arrogant blundering. Now we must be patient and listen.
Instead of a compass I’m left with my heart. And though it is full of longing, I can’t discern any direction in particular.
What my heart wants is already here. It is called in all directions and none. Arriving into the ten thousand things. The air ringing with meadowlark. Quartz siblings kissing the sun. Pollen rising and falling.
The clouds murmur “tell me your story.”