ON MEANING & THRESHOLDS
AND ICE CREAM ON WAFFLES

Originally published as a New Years Day Newsletter, January 1, 2021

First, Happy New Year! We made it to the other side of.... whatever that was....

2020 was in large part a year that required profound resilience. Many of us were called on to dig deep and discover new forms of personal strength. Or maybe just an older strength that was in hibernation. (Assuming of course, as I do, that strength is some kind of psycho-spiritual grizzly bear.) In the whirlwind of this calendar year I have myself been edified and bolstered by the kindness of my fellow humans, particularly you all. Second Circle's purpose has always been, in part, to create lasting bonds between us; it's been humbling to see this family come together during difficult times.

Of course, the challenges of 2020 will not simply fade into the past as we tear off the final page of our Far Side Gallery Daily Comic Desktop Calendar and hurl it into the closest trash fire. Things will go on. But that doesn't mean New Years is devoid of real potential and personal magic. On the contrary.

BRAIN FOOD

The turning of a year into another is a pretty arbitrary moment, in large part. If someone were living in the woods without the internet or their Far Side calendar they would have no idea what day was "New Years" because, in a strictly material sense, nothing meaningful really happens. We don't get an annual meteor shower every December 31st, the drinking water doesn't glow purple and taste like caramel or something for five minutes, it's just more time passing.

But it's also not, because meaning is a real thing in the world. Humans need meaning; meaning is the fruit of the garden of the mind, both product and food. So when we hear the know-it-all cynics remind us that people simply make up what New Years means, we might recall that people make up all meaning everywhere. Because we must, our minds need to eat. Even the act of saying, "well that's meaningless" is a way to create meaning. (Sneaky, sneaky brain...) We're all in this water, friends. Calling it air doesn't dry us off.

THRESHOLDS

You know how sometimes you go from one room to another to get something, but the second you step through the door you forget what you were there for? That's called the "Doorway Effect" and many psychologists believe your brain is quite literally "resetting" your experience when you go to a new room. It is creating a new context, a new space for understanding its position in time and space. This can have the unintended consequence that your intentions from the previous room are lost in the shift.

Did I just enter the kitchen? Oh man, I have all kinds of specific feelings about the kitchen, gotta reboot and make sure those are all loaded up for... Wait, why am I here?

A threshold is literally just the object or sill at the foot of a door, where we cross from one space to another. In a strictly material sense, it's nothing special. The stone that marks the entrance to a temple is just a stone like all the others. We could choose to see it as pointless, inert, devoid of interest. Or we could embrace our nature as meaning-makers and acknowledge that moving from one space to another changes us somehow, whether we comprehend it or not. At the temple threshold this fact is embraced, drawn forward, and composed into a shared agreement: "The place you're now entering is different."

You can join this agreement or not, neither option is correct. The point is not really to find our way down to the "truth" of life, that's not available to us. The aim is to investigate how we create meaning through things like thresholds and boundaries and love and desire and illusion, and then assume a bit of agency within the process.

We have a wonderful opportunity for this kind of work today, should we so choose.

PRACTICE

This is all to say, I invite you on this New Year's Day 2021 to take a moment and find your own temple stone, your own practice or moment whereupon you can lay a threshold and cross it in your own way.

If you need an idea here's what I'm doing:

Find a good pen and decent paper. Card stock is best if you've got it. Sit down somewhere quiet and close your eyes. Then just ask yourself, "what does my Wise Mind want for me this year?" (If you're not familiar with the concept of the Wise Mind, it's exactly what the name says. You've got one, it's in there, and it can be pretty chatty if you give it an opening....) Let that question sit, maybe repeat it inside a few times, and wait until you hear that part of you speak its thoughts. Write down what you receive with the aforementioned crafting supplies. That's it.

(Or, conversely, have waffles and ice cream for dinner. I'm also doing that, it's a threshold I stole from Emily.)

Much, much love to you all. Here's to a new year in practice.

Sincerely,

Kyle