So much of my life is liminal. I shouldn’t be surprised, my birth itself was sort of a liminal thing. Around 11am on June 30th 1982, my beloved Mother went into labour. This was at the very beginning of her third trimester. The nurse did not believe her but all the signs of imminent birth were there. Fifty-six minutes later I was born. My darling Father missed it. I was two pounds two ounces. Minutes after my birth I stopped breathing. A week later I had pneumonia and dropped to one pound fourteen ounces. Death, I have realized, has been with me since the beginning. Straddling that line between this world and the next was the first great Work of my life.
I was confused a few months back when Hermes started calling me “the Watcher at the Gate”. I think I may understand Him now. The push to work with the Dead and Dying has ramped up again. Lots of “coincidence’s” pertaining to being a death midwife or doula. My one year anniversary of my baptism is coming up at the end of the month. He says things will “get busy” after that.
Why the trillium you ask? I read an amazing article about a week back (which I will link to eventually)touching on the liminal nature of the trillium flower. How it thrives at this liminal time of year. The photo attached to this post I took about two weeks ago; A lone trillium amongst the growing green.