In order to enter (one cannot enter anywhere without a glimpse of the liminal).
In order to enter liminal space
where in this liminality (should one notice it) there to experience the greater potentiality of transformation. To experience the greater potentiality is also to be absolutely sure of one's current entrapment. There must be a threshold for liminality, and thus a sliver of space in which transformation occurs. As we look for this slat of bright otherness, so there must be a doorway or gate, an iconstasis or a veil, a fence or a facade, the blank face of actuality - sometimes ornamented - must be it thrust against the movement of our bodies as a symbol or as an obstacle an arresting moment which cannot be either here or there thus for a moment without order there is required an order; the here and there - although these elements are no longer within sensible reach. Once within the-in-between all order ceases, yet it is embraced in structure albeit a rabbit hole a gap the pause in-breath.
For to notice the liminal, for to enter the transformative potential thereof, thus an initiation. Initiation is never about the experience within the new, for that would not be possible to impart; always initiation is a method of approach to recognising structure. Initiation is a trap made apparent. Most times, the structure is not noticed. This is one of the functions of good order; to make its structure invisible - not noticed. Yet a vital function of this invisible moment by moment existence is to acknowledge its own redundancy: Time will come when every order fails. Those who have not experienced a liminal being in freefall, being all potential, will dangerously insist on order ever-after, even when all usefulness has gone from that order. To experience the betwixt and the between there must be a combination of imagined and actual spacial awareness; this is a grounding in the creative (even when there is no apparent ground). Rock is fire. Fire is remembering rock. Rock re-membered is our body shaped around fire. To experience aporia is to be caught in a tunnel with fire at either end, to be bewildered by clouds of ink or encircled by a net of bubble. No matter how many times you reverse yourself, your are still caught. Lewis Hyde
Yes, you heard it a door slamming will do or the slow scraping of twigs along glass. Wake up. Yes you heard it. Nodding off on the bus, top deck, and the branches smack in the face glass stops and then the wooden squealing as they scrape alongside you a trumpeter trying to get out off the corner of their tight composition. You heard it, now wake up. Be convinced by the importance of those words, pinion stratified structures: words flitting above your head whooshing and sweeping clearing away and branches arch over the whole road bending down to vehicle bidden ground. A door jamb will do, the shudder of the lintel. You heard the opening and the closing behind you.
The retreat; the discovery; the mark making gesture; the abiding with powers which in another circumstance might destroy.
In this process a new aspect of knowledge. A communication of this knowledge is returned to the social realm. It is spoken of around the fire and one by one, following steps which have by now become safer, the group becomes a series of individuals as they witness – alone for a moment – a power at once familiar and yet new. To experience directly this fresh understanding. In the shape of our novel, so in the shape of the cave, the shape of cognition and being. Both thought and thinking about thought begin to change. The process of differences serves an internalisation and reordering of gesture. A movement through language is a tool for processing the different. Once gestures become connected (stepping down into a cave, moving earth into image, putting a hand against a horse’s flanks) so do these movements become aspects of a new knowledge. We partake in the changing world. The novelisation of our imagination is an evolutionary expression of being. Gestures and creatures are related and formed into marks, the marks form gestures which allow one to approach creatures. Differences are set in relation to one another. Each difference and each act of relatedness may then be rediscovered in a newly invented society. A society exists for as long as it carries a unifying haptics amongst each of its parts. Gestures and scripts link the body. A narrative conveys one safely up until the very point of meeting a power able to dissolve and utterly dismiss that narrative. Now there is new knowledge, change is encountered, a new dance amongst new mark making. Change is encountered and this is either a new story or the end of all stories. The novelisation of our cave is an evolution of imagination.