Straddling.
One foot in, one foot out.
Balancing.
Stepping into, with ease and grace.
The beauty and fullness of acceptance.
Crossing a threshold, one foot in, one out. Stepping over a reinforced structure, a stronger part of a building. Crossing over to go from one element to another.
Times, when I broke through the illusion of non-acceptance.
Writing postcards to the pope for three years, sharing my prayers for inclusion from a male hierarchy.
Leaving all that was familiar to me because the familiar was unhealthy.
Hearing a friend, with the utmost compassion, tell me I make it difficult for people to thank me.
With the threshold of rites of passage, the community gathers, strengthens, to support the transition. Birth, coming of age, marriage, death, cultivated with the support of the community. I’ve come to experience that even when I cross a threshold alone, I am not alone. I am just not recognizing all the community support surrounding me. I will also never know how often I have helped someone transition to accept their full beauty.
